


Red Ropes

by whosyourmaster



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Comfort, Derek-centric, Dom/sub, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kinks, M/M, Mates, Multi, Multiple Relationships, OT5, OT5 Friendship, Online Dating, Orgy, Pack Dynamics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Serial Killers, Shibari, Slow Build, Sub/Dom/Switch, True Love, True Mates, trying to make it better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:23:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2663441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosyourmaster/pseuds/whosyourmaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek never had plans to settle down and bond. Working in his sister's store and going to college taking the forefront of his attention. Though, nights alone, watching movies and drinking beer gets lonely. So at the behest of his sister he joins the swingers scene, signing up for a kink chat-board. Several months of adventurous sex culminates into a party that he would rather forget.</p><p>Now Derek is bonded to four people, something that's never happened before. Only problem, Derek doesn't remember making those bonds. Derek, now, has to find these four peoples' true mates and break the bonds they share, without breaking them. But what is love and how do you find it when the red ropes of fate are so twisted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shuuchi-nawa

**Author's Note:**

> Holy crap this is a long one. So this is chapter one and it starts off a little slow but this will be a massive story. so hang in there and I promise to make this worth it. Any messages or suggestions are much appreciated so hit me up.

Derek has a kink. Well, more than that. It is an obsession or a, for risk of sounding cliche, lifestyle. Any amount of searching through his laptop history would make that fact abundantly clear. Countless hours spent viewing, reading and studying has made Derek a foremost expert in the field. Double column ties, Kannuki, Matanawa each new Shibari technique he saw, he found, he craved.

A stack of beautifully colored ropes inhabited his sock draw. Laid in next to neutral toned shirts and underwear. A rainbow of nylon and Jute ready to be stretched, twisted and wrapped around a waiting body. Only problem, there were no bodies. More often than not the ropes found their home rested around the deep divots of Derek's waist. Tucked under his beloved Henleys. Used to tickle his nerves during tests and lectures. Made warm with the heat of his own want and desire.

For those who knew Derek, a list that was short and few, there was rarely any surprise for this kink. No, what shocked them was what drove the obsession. To Derek, Shibari was art. Living breathing lines that captured life in its grasps and hugged it with all it's might. Simple cuffs and a few gags never did justice to their prizes. To harsh and cold to cherish their lot. Red rope slotted into the nooks of a body was gentle, a simple caress on the skin that always left you needing more.

His beloved ropes were his stress relief. A binding to lock in his existence in the world, letting his wandering mind always have a shell to come back too. It was this very need for release that lead to Derek awake two hours earlier than scheduled. As finals got closer and more students turned to night owls, Derek awakes with the sun more and more. Today was no exception.

Econ 304 and Sociol 420, two tests known for breaking the souls of their students, were set for today. His alarm was set to 5 am, plenty of time to prepare for the 7:30 exam. By 4:45 Derek was alert, watching as the neon red numbers flash, trading places to create new time. While being up early was a personal choice, being up before his alarm made Derek feel overly antsy, worried that needed energy was being wasted by simply looking at the world. Vernon Boyd, his roommate, snored in the loft bed by the window, oblivious to his own 7:30 classes.

6:55, really getting up five minutes wouldn't change much. No extra energy would be lost in such a short amount of time. He could even use a few extra minutes to check his handy work. 6:56, though, the bed was soft and warm. Boyd insisted on having their dorm a crispy 60 degrees. Helps the brain work harder, he claimed. A fact true for computers but maybe not the coders who built them. Though, from the the few encounters Derek had with Boyd’s friends, the coding gang seemed to be made of more MAC than DNA. 6:58, it's just like swimming in a cold pool, that first jump is the worst. One toe at a time just lengthens the torture, but go head first and he could get use to the bitter chill faster. 6:59, well it's only a minute now, might as well relish in the last 60 seconds of comfort.

The alarm chimes off, letting out two muffled notes as Derek places a waiting hand on the off button. Climbing down from his den if blankets, Derek lands his sock clad feet silently on the tiled floor. Boyd didn't even miss a beat to his repetitious snoring. Good. Derek collected his predetermined outfit for the day, one that would give the most overage without suspicion. Fall was just starting, but wandering out in anything more than a long sleeve shirt would seem excessive. Beacon hills was not known for its harsh winters, even by Californian standard. Reaching Into his sock drawer, Derek took extra time to brush his fingers along the bundles lining the back wall.

Each length of Jute rope was well worked, boiled and softened with oil till they brushed the body just so, mimicking the feel of cashmere. Some were left natural, naked of dyes, tanned just a few shades lighter than Derek's own skin. Others, one bought and cared for when Derek had a kitchen, were decorated with various colors and tints. Hand dyed in a old pot his sister Laura managed to salvage. A different rope for a different mood.

With a quick glance out the window, a dull light from the street lamps, illuminating just barely changed leaves. Fall was around the corner. Orange would be a good color. Celebrate the season and a shade that brought out Derek's eyes, even if he was the only person to appreciate it. Wrapping his treasure in his change of clothes, just to be safe, he padded over to the shower. Switching on the light as he locked the door, not bothering his dead to the world roommate. There was as much of a ritual around the prep of the self Shibari as the act itself.

Turning on the shower to a cool temperature, Derek pulled out his unscented lotion from his caddy, a item of his routine that did not go un-mocked by Boyd. Jumping into the shower, the cool water taking the edge off his already heated skin, Derek rinsed out the leftover grit of two all nighters from his hair. Once cleaned and conditioned to softness, he took his soap and began the task of scrubbing his body. Every surface needed to be cleared. Rid of dead skin and bacteria that could get in the way of his senses and dirty his rope. He even contemplated shaving of his body hair, when he first started the kink, it being only one extra barrier. However, strange looks would be had if his arm hair suddenly vanished in the middle of July.

Once cleaned to a proper level, Derek got out, patting down most of the water away. The rest was mixed in with the lotion and rubbed deep into his skin. A quick check of his phone, perched atop the toilet lid, showed he had little over an hour and a half to get himself sorted. Taking the length of rope, Derek began tying bits into it, wrapping it around his torso. Feeding the length through and weaving them around himself and each other.

By 6:45, everything was in order, the orange lines encased his body in intricate diamond shapes and rigid parallel. The orange turned out to be the perfect complement as he had hoped. The rich tone highlighted the undertone from his left over summer tan and the contrast of his dark hairs. The reddish tint of the rope also brought out the green in his eyes. Unable to resist the urge, he opened up the camera app and took a few selfies. cropped just below the neck and above his penis, the intentions of the rope ends left little to the imagination about what they were wrapped around. The low lighting of the bathroom did no justice for the art but they would have to do. Hopefully Boyd would still be out long enough for him to sneak a few pics after his classes.

Shifting and twisting his weight, Derek tested out the tightness. No use in losing circulation during his tests. With the scrape of the rope across his stomach and nipples, everything felt perfect. Just tight enough to leave a detailed pattern across his skin once released but still allowing the blood to flow. Admiring his work for one more time, he tugged his soft Henley over top. tight enough to show his figure but just loose enough to not revile the dirt secret underneath. Loud banging came from the the bathroom door as he buttoned up his baggy jeans.

“Derek, dude how long does it take you to use the damn bathroom?” Boyd yelled, sleep thick voice cracking over the sentence.

“one minute is not gonna kill you.” He answered back, checking to see if any orange was visible.

“I gotta piss. Hurry up!”

“Fine.” Derek answer, throwing open the door, mildly hoping it slammed into his roommate’s face.

“Aw baby girl you look wonderful. Now move” Boyd commented, closing the door with just as much force as Derek had opened it. Rolling his eyes, Derek snatched up his phone and started to stuff his bundle of papers and books into his bag. He shifted his stance under the pull of the rope beneath his clothes. It was only just turning 7 but Derek wasn't in the mood for a full meal. throwing in a waffle into the microwave, Derek took the silent moment to stare at the mirror, inspecting the protective cover.

“I swear you look at yourself more than a girl.” Boyd snarked, opening the door as the toilet flushed.

“You think that painted face Erica makes everyday doesn’t take a few hours?” A disgruntled snort was all he got in return as the timer chimed from the microwave. Swinging his bag over his shoulder, silently basking in the friction, Derek popped the warmed waffle into his mouth. A quick wave to his soon to be late roommate and Derek was out the door.

Econ was a breeze. Turns out hours of studying and few Redbulls is all you need to pull off a decent grade. Even with the slightly brain numbing effect of the ropes there were no problems in the end. After a quick lunch and a rushed check up in the bathroom, all ropes still nice and snug. Pulling one line of rope to the side Derek could already see the deep red divots left by the Jute cording. With just enough time between classes, Derek had enough time to swipe a sandwich from the cafeteria.

Shoving the last bits of the ham and swiss into his mouth, Derek entered the dimly lit classroom, procuring his usual seat. Only a few of the front row seats were occupied, filled by those students who were the teacher’s pet or too anxious to relax anywhere else. Pulling out his text book, Derek tried to find a comfortable position, working the rope work to rest in the valley of his ass, up away from the unforgiving chair.

Chapter ten, the key section for the final, blandly titled Gender in Society. Any freshman in an intro class knew that Genders were a social construct. Nothing revolutionary to seasoned students, especially Derek who already took a full course in Gender Studies. The text mostly handled the constructs of male and female, how traits are given by society and how sex and gender were not interchangeable terms. The author making a clear aversion from the more complex, and even hypocritical, gendered issues of Dominants and Submissives.

The jury was still out on weather these “sub-genders” were constructs like male/female or were more grounded in science like X/Y chromosomes. Several medical journals, a month, published new finds stating that bonded doms and subs had physical effects. Stories of a “true” bonded pair could heal one another with their presents. Some accounts, usually covered by the tabloid trash, even claimed to have psychic abilities due to the bonds. Only issue though, as covered by many journals, was a person “sub-gender” before bonding. Many claimed there must be a predisposed inclination to dominate or submit. Though bonded pairs seemed to fall into a vague black and white functions of the duo, many unbonded people were more of a gray zone, showing signs of both genders.

Bonding in itself was a whole other issue, usually having lengthy journals dedicated to those issues alone. Traditionalists, found that bonding was on level with Marriage. A sacred union that required devotion of both parties and should rarely be taken lightly. However, people who held these also tended to view the sub/dom gender much like they viewed the male/female cousins. A fixed nature that was set in stone from the moment one breaths. These values have started to be challenged though, with more “switches” coming out and even some major programming making a point to feature “switch” characters.

For many, their genders were clear from the start, a little girl who loved to lead her friends since she was in diapers or a little boy who was right at home following orders without questions. Others, Derek very much included, found more of an issue with these ideas. Derek himself, as a small child, found that one day he would toggle after his sister Laura, loyal like a pup, and the next fighting her every word just for the hell of it.

A pair of fingers brushed along his shoulders. Grazing along the strapping lines over his shoulder eliciting a shudder. The scrape of nails and rope sent his blood southward and pushed out a shaky breath.

"A fine day for your art, eh Der? Feeling a little 'up tight'?" An over smug voice poured from painted lips.

"Trying to be witty today, Erica?" He shot back looking at the bottle blonde. red lips pursed into a right smile. Call Erica what you want, whore, floozy, vixen but never question her mind. That was a one way ticket to the dominant girl’s bad side.

"I'm surprised you’re able to 'string' words together. You're handy work not doing the trick these days?" She asked, pulling out her own stack of color coded notes.

"Works just fine." Derek grunted out. Erica knew how well his work was. He had given her tips back when she first started. Unfortunately, Erica was in it more for the power play. The time to tie someone up just got in the way of the end goal in her mind. She ended up gravitating more to chains and gags, easier and quicker.

"I'm sure. Oh, before I forget, Laura wants you in work today."

"It's your day."

"I know. I know. But it's date night, I'm sure you understand. So anyway I told Laura that you'd take over for me." She rattled off pulling out her red phone and shoot most likely Boyd a text. Probably telling him what he needed to gather up supplies for their 'night out'.

"Thanks for telling me." Derek withered. That kind of information was usefully earlier rather than later.

"I am now. What you got plans or something?" The dom asked, knowing full well what the answer would be. Derek never really had plans. Hell, his plans for tonight were drinking in front of the tv. He decidedly did not answer the question. Even without a verbal affirmation Erica smiled knowing she had won this little battle.

As the room started to fill a small murmur started up, nothing compared to a normal day. Everyone to engrossed in their own space. A simple scan of the room gave a clear picture on who was actually prepared or not. From the prim beauty with the clean cursive notes to the guy who had four empty monster cans tumble out with his ratty notebook.

The last minute studying was need by all around though. Soon what little noise there was, was given up in return for tucking into text books. Silence stretched until the door opened, revealing the thin figure of the professor.

"Alright everyone, I hope you're ready."

\--------------------------------------------------TW----------------------------------------------------------

"Hello, welcome to The Den." A overly cheery voice rang out over the entrance bell.

"You need to change the name." Derek grunted out, shouldering his way into the back room. The small break room was stuffed with boxes of what must have been a new shipment. Derek could already tell today was gonna be a pain.

"Aww baby bro, coming all the way here to help out little old me?" Laura asked, dramatically patting Derek's head like a small child. Even with the almost extra foot on her, Laura had a way of making him feel small. With a gruff snort Derek shouldered his bag onto an empty chair, staring into the contents if the boxes. Thongs, gags, varying sizes of toys and something that resembled a very realistic fleshlight were stacked in the discreet packaging."Besides, the name gives a kind of cozy feel to the whole thing, no?"

"Not really."

"Don't be so uptight there Der. Now, I need you to restock the shelves between customer visits. I have to order more inventory, come get me if you need anything." With that, a streak of wavy dark hair disappeared around the corner. Resigned to his duties, Derek picked up the first box, feeling the strain in his arms and the rope. At least the day wouldn't be a total displeasure.

No matter what his sister said about the name making the shop feel homey, the interior had a decidedly dominatrix feel. All dark pleather and chains, with a small section dedicated to brightly colored dildos or more 'soft core' habits. The addition of a mannequin dressed as slutty red riding hood added to the feel of the shop being the big bad wolf's own pet project. The shop had a reputation though as one of the best for new sub/dom couples, being only a few blocks from a support clinic. A place Laura was well acquainted with after the loss of her sub. The den became an outlet for the older hale. A place to grow personal relations and even put some of her dom energy into use, leading new patrons through the worlds of sex. The shops business quickly flourished and was the driving provider for Derek's education and soon to be Cora's.

Restocking shelves is always a boring activity, even with the music playing in the background adding a beat to the repetitiveness. Several bottles of lube needed to be labeled and lined up in an 'appealing layout', unless he wanted to get an earful from Laura. Most days he could care less and would just throw things up to be done with it. However, after the day he has had, Derek wasn't to interested in starting a fight with his sister.

The door chime went off as a group of young girls walked in. Obviously having just recently turned 18 by their giggles to the store. The fact they didn't even change out if their school uniforms, also attested to their young age. Standing up and walking behind the register, Derek gave a short hello and demanded some form of ID. All three pulled out a drivers license smiling as if they has accomplished some great feet. Each piece of plastic seemed valid enough and placed the girls just this side of legal, with the middle one in the group being so by a whopping two days.

"We are shopping Lindsey's birthday present today." Her bright eyes friend informed, fluttering her eyelashes in a charming manor. This girl, Gabby as highlighted by the drivers license, screamed natural dom. With the behavior of the other too, Gabby was obviously the ring leader of this whole exhibition.

"Congratulations" Derek offered up, shifting his weight under the state of the three girls. Bored, one girl in their group had already wandered off down an isle of cheaply made DVDs. Lindsey, the birthday girl in questions looked equal parts like she wanted to flirt with Derek but also flee for her life. She gave a small nod in acknowledgement to his praise as she bit her lower gloss covered lip.

"Yes, well, we were interested in getting something truly special of the occasion." Gabby continued on, bringing her hand up to warp around Derek's wrist. "Maybe even something, we would all like." Teenagers, not known for their subtle tactics.

“What are you looking for?” Derek directed his attention solely on the birthday girl. Lindsey’s response was only a small blush and a quite answer for lingerie.

“Now that’s not fun. You can get that anywhere. I think we need to get you a nice Dildo, something a little more interesting.” Gabby threw in her unwanted opinion. From her friends reaction it seemed that the gift was more for Gabby’s pleasures than her own. Uninterested in the power play between the dom and sub duo, Derek led the girls to the wall of colorful synthetic penises.

“Feel free to ask questions.” A polite mannerism that Laura insisted he practice. From the flippant wave from Gabby, it was clear she was more interested in showing her own knowledge to her friend. Going into the backroom again picking up the next box. inside was a the ‘seasons’ new lingerie with a stack of papers placed on top. Thumbing through the papers, Derek realized they were a series of missing person posters. Confused, Derek made a stop at Laura’s office door on the way out.

“Laura, what do you want me to do with these?” He asked shouldering the door open as Laura put down the phone. Walking over he shifted the box so she could look in on the posters from her seat.

“Put them on the door and a few on the light posts outside.” She answered turning back to the computer. Getting his answer Derek left, placing the box on the counter. Mumbling in the corner was the now three girls, pouring over their options for a present. Snagging the tape from the drawer, He takes the stack up to the glass door. The stack was several copies of the same three missing people posters. two guys and one woman went missing. All three were submissives and seemed to have no connection to each other, from what the poster said. Beacon hill was not necessarily a small town but by no means big enough for this many people to go missing at the same time.

"Excuse me! We are ready to pay." The trio leader stated, placing their items on the counter. What they bought was nothing too crazy but by their face you'd think they just bought a sex swing and four prostitutes. As he rang up the bottle of lube and a toy, placing them in a discreet bag, Derek handed it over in exchange for the small handful of dollars. Paid all in ones, you'd think they were at a strip club getting a lap dance insets of a sex shop at 3:30 on a Tuesday.

After they left, all giggles and childish winks, Derek got back to work. He unboxed some more items and helped with the few customers that entered by the time Laura came back out. Stretching her arms above her head a loud crack came from her back.

"How was business, Der?" A simple pat on his back as she passed by to check the register and mail.

"Fine." Was all he gave and that was all Laura needed to know that he was bored to tears. With a humming nod, his sister started to shuffle through the miscellaneous bills and a few ads that never seemed to find the right address. Flicking through, most ended in the trash, but one caught his sisters attention. It was a simple postcard to join a ILove.com free weekend. He couldn't tell which was weirder, that a dating website like ILove still was still running or that they still believe paper mail actually worked.

"So Ms. Schaffer came in the other day. You remember her yes?" Yeah Derek remembered her. Ms Schaffer was a staple fixture if the store, like one of Laura's slutty mannequins. A widow of several years, the middle aged woman found comfort in the more extreme items of the store. She was constantly on the look out for a new toy and a new dom to use it with. Derek had not gone unnoticed to Ms Schaffer in the early days. Countless passes and flirting so obvious it could hit the broadside of a barn. She even went as far as to make Derek critique possible new lingerie outfits, constantly picking out ones that were see through or just string. However, after a very long talk, Ms. Schaffer figured out that her and Derek were not going to happen, and their rather to tumultuous relationship settled into easy companionship. Derek offered toy and chain recommendations, even throwing in of his own Shibari tricks and a few ropes, while Schaffer offered up every single dom or sub she met. While, sometimes it got annoying, it was relatively harmless and boiled down to the two throwing snarky remarks about preference back as forth. Schaffer was one of the only people, Of the "old ways", who readily believe in Derek's switch preference.

"She came by yesterday looking for you, she said she had a new website you need to check out." Laura continued now digging through the drawers looking for a slip of paper.

"Website?"

"Yeah, some dating site I think? She said it specialized in kinks. Apparently she has been using for a while and that it's just what my baby bro needs. Here it is!" She announce pulling out a torn part of a mailing form. "It's kind of a shitty name but she said that it's great for quick hooks up and that she even found a few boyfriends off it too. Maybe worth a shot." Shitty name was no joke, devilsplayground.com.

"Sounds bad."

"Maybe you should try it." Laura offered. Derek just snorted at the idea. "Come one Derek, it's been forever since you dated. You should get out there at least a little. Nothing serious but make some human connections."

"I have connections."

"Erica, your roommate and I, are not the kind of connections I mean. Hell all the people you actually know are tied to this place. Wouldn’t hurt to meet someone somewhere else."

"What if I'm not comfortable with screwing around with random people?" That was more of a boldface lie, but anything to wiggle out of the absurd idea.

"I dug through the site yesterday, they even have a few forums for just meeting people platonically. It seems pretty legitimate, here look at it." Laura threw in the URL and pulls up the page. Surprisingly it wasn't all blacks and reds, like usual kink sites. It had calming blues and a slider with their more successful matching stories, people who met online and later got married over even found their 'true bond' mate. At the top was a tab for all kinds of kinks, ranging from simple bondage to extremes like scat. As Laura explained what she found, she clicked around, bringing the cursor to the make new profile page.

"Here, you make your profile with names, pictures and even put in your own kink preferences and dislikes. You can either pick people and have open chats in one of those tabs I showed or the server and can pair you up based off your likes. Best part, it's cheap, only a couple bucks a month." Laura seemed so proud of her research that it seemed to bode unwell of Derek.

"You've already decided on this haven't you?" He asked watching that small smirk cross his sister's glossed lips.

"Yup! Let's get you started." She said happily filling in the box. Any other day, Derek night have fought her on the issue, but today just didn't feel right. If he hated it he could delete it later.


	2. Bayu

Username: BIGbad88 (note to self: kill Laura.)

Age: 27

Likes: Long walks on the beach, starlight dinners and down and ditry sex involving tight ropes and tighter asses. (Absolutely going to have to kill Laura.)

Gender: Male

Sub-Gender: Switch

Looking for: You baby ;). (Yep, definitely going to kill Laura.)

All this paired with an actually decent photo, hand picked by Laura and approved by his little sister Cora and Erica. Some phone snapshot of him at the lake, just as summer turn to autumn. It honestly didn't show much of his face but you got a full view of his muscled back and the 3-spiral tattoo at his neck. 'Makes you cool', 'you look so sexy yet gentle', 'it makes you look exciting', it makes Derek look like a tool in his mind. It is kind of surprising how a personal profile can be filled out by everyone besides the person it is for. Throwing in her personal credit card information, Laura hit complete and locked in Derek's new online persona.

"There we go, you are all set. Now start surfing the forms little Der."

"You take too much interest in my sex life."

"That's what a sister is for. Now, give me your phone." Handing it over reluctantly, Derek eyes Laura as she swiped through the screens. Smiling proudly she handed it back to him. On the screen was a condensed version of the site. Still all clean cut and calming blues.

"You bought the app for me too?"

"It's free for new users. Plus makes life easier." She said flippantly, closing down the computer browser and preparing to close shop.

"You're definitely to interested." Derek replied, pocketing his phone.

They closed up the shop, bundled up in their coats and went their separate ways. Laura had a nice apartment near ‘The Den’ that was good for lonely weeks or when Boyd needed the room. The drive back to campus was easy, traffic cleared out after rush hour, only the radio keeping his mild interest.

Opening his door to the dorm, he was hit with the smell of pizza and sex. Boyd and Erica were cuddle up on the bed lazily watching a movie with half an interest. Derek stood there staring at the cozy couple, raising an eyebrow as a way to ask about the date.

"Hey I said it was date night, didn't say where it would be." Erica flippantly replied, running greasy fingers over Boyd's shirt that she is wearing. Boyd was laying in his boxer pulling her closer to his chest. For size, stature and silence, Boyd was a true cuddler at heart. Ignoring the lovers as best he can, Derek shucks his bag and coat. opening the computer as it booted up, Derek got comfortable at his desk. Before he even pulled up his essay to complete, his email chimed, alerting him to 15 new emails. Most were advertisements and school notices. Three however, were from the kinky site. One welcoming BIGbad88 to the community, giving tips to make connections, and two from other users. Only an hour from it’s creation, Derek's profile already had 10 hits, 7 thumbs up and two messages. One message was sent by a decent looking male sub and the other by a very pretty switch woman. Both emails were composed following a basic formula. Hi, hello, I noticed your likes and I like them too, would you like to meet up, message me and see you soon hopefully.

"Is that from the date site!?" Erica asked, quickly jumping up off the bed, leaving behind a slightly disgruntled Boyd. His t-shirt barely covered anything and Boyd's wounded pride was slightly healed by the view of Erica's ass under the hem of the shirt. Leaning over, giving a better view, Erica read over Derek's shoulder the two messages. "Well look at you Mr. BIGbad88, already have people fawning over you." The sound of Boyd snorting over the quiet film added to Derek's hatred for the username. Erica seemed pretty content with herself over the whole ordeal, she offering her two cents over text to Laura. "Click on her." She said pointing to the profile picture of the young woman. Sugarandspice18, a buxom brunette with natural makeup and casual dress, smiled from the profile picture. Her likes were pretty open ended, as long as there was no pain, and her bio was decently made and showed the she actually took time. It made Derek feel like even more of a tool for what Laura decided to write. He'd have to go change that and soon.

"Oh, she sounds nice! You should make a date with her." Erica suggested, automatically giving the girl a thumbs up. Derek, tabbed through her pictures, discussing them with Erica before she returned to her home in Boyd's bed. She did seem like a nice girl, pretty and open to new things. What was the worst that could happen? Opening up the ‘Message Me’ tab, he began composing his poorly made reply.

 

Hay,

Names Derek. Want to get coffee sometime?

\---------------------------------------------------TW---------------------------------------------------------

 

As the months passed, and Derek changed his profile, his popularity on the site increased. Turns out there is a nifty little rating system you can use on other users. All it took was a single good review from Jennifer, sugarandspice18, and he was a hit. Nothing more than glowing praise on his sexual prowess and seemingly infinite knowledge of shibari technique and he was an all star. More and more thumbs up and messages came his way. 

With his growing popularity came a growing knowledge of sexual preferences. Many people would be straightforward with what they wanted, sending messages detailing interests in bondage, humiliation, even exhibitionism. 

Even within the sub-genders, Derek found wide variety in interests, some subs simple wanted to be tied up while others wanted to ordered around and punished harshly for any discretion. Those few preferences Derek wasn't comfortable with he was more than willing to turn down. It was still interesting to read with what detail people went into. One particularly interesting one detailed an encounter with him, BIGbad88, dressed as the big bad wolf and the sender dressed as little red being chained to a wall and 'violated' by a pack of wolves. Derek had sent back a mildly humorous decline of, only on Halloween. Which is exactly where he found himself that Halloween night. 

To say watching a woman have turns taken in her was memorable, was a gross exaggeration. The look of bliss on her face as men fought for use of one of her hands or holes burned it's way into Derek’s brain. Clicking of chains, breathy groans and sounds of slickened bodies rubbing together filled the dim motel room. Little red even went as far to purchase a latex costume complete with black and white corset and iconic red hood. Clearly this was an interest she had her eyes on for a while. Derek was the only man in the room who was still wearing clothes and didn't really need to shuck them till the grand finally. A combination of sweaty bodies and Derek taking complete control by having his turn with red and many of the other wolves. 

His job as 'BIGbad' was to instruct the 'wolves', to dominate over everyone else in the room. He had the power to decide who gets what pleasure and when. It was the first time he truly dominated and he was good at it. The ‘wolves’, men who were generally bigger than Derek, would kneel to his whim as if he was an alpha wolf. By the end of the night, Derek didn’t even need to touch anyone to feel satisfied, but who was he to turn down willing participants. The images of sweaty bodies and gyrating hips would keep Derek company late at night, when he only had his hands. 

The next morning, Derek woke with relaxed muscles and about a thousand thank yous from little red herself. Not a bad way to start the morning, paired with a cup of coffee and the fact it was saturday. A bit of homework and a few hours in the shop was all he had to worry about. The streets of Beacon Hills was quiet. The children were sleeping off their candy comas and the parents finally getting a moment of peace. the roar of his camaro was only mildly whipped out by the peppy voices of morning talk radio. All the gossip and celebrity news about last nights wild costume parties filled the car cabin. Even when the news took a more solemn turn, bring up a string of homicides, the radio heads never lost their obnoxious excitement. The radio only decided to start playing music just as Derek pulled up to The Den. 

Laura was already inside, setting up registers and dusting displays. If Derek hadn't slept at Laura's apartment before he would just assume she slept in the shop, snuggle up to the love pillow pile. Music blasted from her headphones, the music loud and clear from across the store. Placing his coffee on the counter, Derek shucked his coat and tossed it behind the counter. 

"And good morning to you too." Laura snorted, kicking the affronting garment into the back.  "How was your Halloween? Any wild college ragers?" 

"Nothing special, just stayed inside with a few people." 

"You seem to have a lot of new 'friends' recently." She threw back. The statement left Derek slightly irked. Joining the site was her idea. what did she expect from a kink chat board, people to not hook up regularly? Maybe if he wasn't being safe than there should be concern. However, he had plenty of access to lube and condom, since he worked at a freaking sex shop. Even last night he brought plenty of extras incase someone else forgot.

"Just be safe. That's all I want... And maybe taking one of them on a date sometime. Social interaction without sex is good for you too." Laura stated, throwing in her two cents. With a small nod of acceptance, Derek went about his morning routine to open the store. 

By lunchtime the store had stayed relatively quiet. To many people trying to recuperate from their night of trick and treats. A woman came in to stock up on half off costumes and one man tried to get a refund on an open package of body chocolate. Stating that the chocolate 'tasted more like ass than his wife's'. Over all a typical day, if not a little boring. While dull, it was well needed after last night. Around 3, the door chimed, opening up and letting in the cooling weather. 

"Hello. Welcome to the Den." Laura greeted the new customer as Derek rearranged the holiday display. The young man had a clean cut look, tan police uniform and a solemn look. He looked to be the same age as Derek, but one look at his body language eluded to life where you grew up fast or not at all. Even with the tough guy stance the officer still offered up a stretched smile to Derek and his sister. 

"Hello. I am Deputy Parrish. I have been going around the neighborhood asking places of business to display these." In his out stretched hand was xerox copies of missing person posters. 

"More?" Laura asked taking a few. With a grim nod the deputy looked over the young face on the page. Walking up, Derek took a copy from Laura's small pile and read the details. Name: Lindsey Sorrel. Female. Age 18. Hair color: brown. Eye color: brown. Last seen leaving school in her Tan '01 Corolla. On top the list of descriptions was a photo of a familiar face. 

"I know her." Derek said staring at the smiling picture of the teen. 

"You do?" Two voice echoed back. Confusion and a small bit of hope covered both faces.

"Well, I met her. She came her about a month ago, maybe two." Derek added turning to face the deputy. Parrish pulled out a notepad and scribbled down the detail, readying to ask the next few questions. 

"Do you know why she was in here, mr...?" 

"Derek. And she was here for the same reason anyone comes here." 

"Derek." Laura gave a warning looking. Finding his answer to be insufficient and quite snotty sounding. 

"She was dragged in here by her friends. They bought her 'presents' for her 18th birthday. Though, she seemed more like she was forced in than really wanted to be here." He fixed his answer. "Do you know the name of the friends she brought?" Parrish went on, writing a mile a minute. He'd be lucky to read his notes after this all. 

"Eh, something starting with a G, all I remember about her was she was flirting with anything that had legs." 

"Was the name Gabby? We have been questioning her about Lindsey's last sightings." 

"Yeah, that was her name. That's all I really know though. None of them ever came back." Derek said, it wasn't much but hopefully it helped somehow. 

"That's very helpful. Thank you." Parrish said, pocketing the pad and pen back into his shirt pocket. “Well, if you two hear anything, be sure to give us a call. Now I have got a few more places to deliver these signs too.” With a small smile he nodded and made to leave. 

"Officer." Laura piped up before he got too far. "We've been getting a lot of missing people posters. Is everything alright? Is there something we should look out for?" She asked, clearly bothered. Beacon Hills was a decent size town but the number of missing peoples reports was a cause for alarm. That last few months had more people for MIA than on the last several years combined.

"I assure you, you are perfectly safe." Parrish said with so little conviction it made the siblings feel the exact opposite. He offered up no other information though. The last several months had the police keeping tight lipped on the towns rising missing people populations. This led to a rise in sensationalized talk around town. Last weekend Ms. Schaffer made her usual stop , bringing with her rumors of serial killers, drug lord, human trafficking and even cannibalism. What ever the truth was, the police were not ready to come out with it. Leaving many to forge their own 'truths'. "Have a good day Derek and you too Ms..."

"Laura" 

"Okay, Laura, have a good day." With that Parrish turned and left out the way he entered. As he passed he looked at the many missing person signs plastering the door. With a pause he turned back to Laura and 'Derek, tapping two posters. "You can take these two down." With that he was gone. 

With a confused sigh, Laura grabbed the tape and walked up to the door. Pulling down the two indicated signs, she replaced them with the face of Lindsey. A solemn silence filled the store for the rest of the day. Only the soft tunes of early Christmas music fill the void. Once closed up, the drive home was as uneventful as the drive there. The only thing that broke the repetitious haze was the hundreds of Lindsey's smiling out from every store window and telephone pole. It was the first time Derek really noticed the sheer number of missing posters that plastered the city. Almost like a graffiti virus that coated every available surface. 

The dorm was dark and quiet when he entered. Left over beer cans littered the floor, poorly hidden away from prying RA eyes. Even a dry campus got a little wet around the holidays. Chucking what he could find into a spare trash bag, Derek felt the steady buzz of his phone in his pocket. Pulling it out he thumbed in his password and found he had a notification from the devil's playground app. 

**HeartofSilver has invited you to a group chat.**

Opening up the chat bubble, Derek found a private conversation between him and three other users. Accepting the message, a small blue chat bubble appeared next to a smiling blonde profile. 

**HeartofSilver** : Hello everyone. Happy Halloween and all that. I am messaging you to see if you are interested in a party. We all have some similar likes and I think we could have lots of fun together.

As he finished reading the blurb another bubble poped up giving a binging noise. This one had a smirking plush lip redhead photo accompanying it.

**ItsLydiababe** : A party? What kind of party? 

**HeartofSilver** : nothing too extreme, just a little group playing. Simple sub dom binding time. ;) 

This time the third and final person chimed in. An obnoxiously happy smile graced the face of a pale mole covered young man. 

**stilinskinator** : sounds like my kind of party. Hay. I have a friend, can I bring him too? 

**HeartofSilver** : the more the merrier. I have a plus one I will be bringing along too. 

**ItsLydiababe** : This all sounds very interesting but what are the details? 

**HeartofSilver** : like I said a simple party. I am a dom and I see that Mr. BIGbad88 is also highly recommended for domination. Simply the two of us would take care of you all. 

The idea was an interesting one. Derek had never seen a domination duo and couldn't lie that the novelty was not lost on him. Seeing this as his moment to chime in, he quickly typed in his reply. 

**BIGbad88** : When and where? 

**HeartofSilver** : so you finally decided to join the conversation. how does a week from now sound? I can book the hotel and take care of everything. 

**ItsLydiababe** : That's very hospitable of you. 

**stilinskinator** : that day works for us. What time are we thinking?

**HeartofSilver** : How does 8 sound? Gives us plenty of playtime. 

**ItsLydiababe** : I agree to this. We first need rules though. 

**HeartofSilver** : don't worry too much about that, love. I went through all your profiles and wrote down your likes and dislikes. The only ones I need is for stilinskinator's friend. 

**stilinskinator** : I'll send it to you all once he tells me.

**HeartofSilver** : perfect. Mr BIGbad would you like to join us? 

Thinking about the conversation for a few minutes, Derek started to tab through all the members profiles. All their photos were a mash of smiling faces and sexy poses, even stilinskinator had a few ridiculous ones with a lacrosse stick. A few had another boy with him, the guy had a lopsided jaw that must make him the adorable puppy to all women. ItsLydiababe Had several generic selfies and a couple model shots that showed off her beauty. She was definitely a woman who prided herself on good looks, though her bio hinted at a intellect to match. HeartofSilver was a mature looking woman with a sharp sense of style. All leather and chains, even her selfies had a flair for dominatrix to them. Overall the group seemed to be ragtag but interesting nonetheless. As for ratings, they were all over the place HeartofSilver had several high ratings but ItsLydiababe and stilinskinator had next none, all indicators pointing to new users. Finding no reason to say no Derek threw in his opinion 

**BIGbad88** : works for me. 

**stilinskinator** : Alright! We are in too. 

**ItsLydiababe** : Why not? Let's try this. 

**HeartofSilver** : perfect. I'll email you all the address and times. Have a good day lovelies.

\-------------------------------------------------TW-----------------------------------------------------------

With a week to wait, Derek was left with a knot in his belly, several knots. That wasn't too unusual though, he often felt jittery at the prospect of sexual relations with someone. Let alone with 5, that made Derek feel like he might vibrate out of existence with a his nervous twitching. Though, for what it was worth, the week leading up to the party was similar to any other. Classes continues on with a dull pace, each teacher working relentlessly to that grand finale of final tests and papers. The Den was quite, void of any more police presence and just starting to pick up the Christmas crowd.

By Thursday the nerves started getting to him so much he practically dragged Boyd to the bars. So, of course, Erica went to, cause where Boyd went Erica was close behind. The dark lights and loud rock music did little to cover up the seediness of the place. Probably once a thriving well cared establishment, now it was a hole in the wall falling apart at the seams. A place only propped up by its history and loyal oldies fan base. 

“Here’s to friends, fun and what ever chilque bullshit we are suppose to toast to!” One tan bottle held high in the air by red painted nails. Ericas loud voice booming over the music to the annoyance of Derek and the appreciation of Boyd. They weekly mimicked the gesture back to her. Falling into comfortable chats about school and their shared social life. Nothing that rocked the boat, Derek wasn't too interested in sharing in his sex party plans. Even though, Erica would greatly like to hear about it. Several beers later and a heated debate about the future of their socioeconomic status, the bar was lulling to a close. 

"I'll be right back boys. Don't miss me too much." With that Erica sauntered off in the direction of ladies room. Taking the time to sway her hips and turning to give Boyd a particularly pressing smirk. Derek simplest snorted into his bottle as Boyd returned the gesture with a wink. 

"Can you two be anymore sexual frustrated." 

"Who said there's frustration?" 

"Well thanks for giving me that image. Like I didn't have enough problems sleeping already." Derek retorted, lightly punching Boyd in the arm. A pleasant silence fell over the men, as Boyd picked at the label of his beer. 

"I was thinking of asking her to bond with me." He said slowly, barely over the sound of the music. Derek took a measured gulp of his drink, trying not to choke on the news. 

"Really?" He asked. "Do you think she is your true bond?" Boyd just shrugged. 

"I don't know. I don't know what it feels like to have a true bond." He stated, Derek nodded his head in acceptance. It was a common thing. For all of societies praises for true bonds, very few could actually describe the feelings involved. "I do know, though, that I want to spend everyday with her." Boyd continued, taking a drink to wash down his nerves. "I want to wake up with her near me and to own a house together. Maybe, even kids. She doesn't ever want to get married. Doesn't like the idea of a ceremony, but maybe mate bonding is good. just want her by me." The level of honesty in his voice was pressing. Like a new level of gravity just fell upon the pair. Derek took in his roommate for a moment, stared at his posture, thought about his words.

"I think that's a great idea." He offered up, suddenly the gravity lifted. Left in its place was a beaming hopeful Boyd. All bright smiles and nervous energy. "How you gonna ask her?" A girl like Erica had a pension for dramatics, a simple question at a bar with friends would not cut it. 

"I'm not sure yet but I'm working on it. Just don't tell." 

"Man, you don't need to tell me that. I know, just give me heads up for the big moment." Derek stated, greeting Boyd a pat in the back and small smile. 

"So what did I miss boys?" Erica asked as she hopped back up on to the bar stool, leaning right into Boyd's shoulder. 

"You know. Guy stuff." Derek offered up, as a loose explanation. 

"So what shade of neutral matches your eyes best?"

"You know us so well, Erica." Boys chuckle, throwing his arm around her chair. Raising his beer in a pseudo cheers sign, the group celebrated just being and continued to drink. The night went on in such fashion. Small talk spreading across the table and when silence did hit they shared a cheers and downed what they had. The combination of friends and 4 beers did wonders for Derek's rising nerves.

Come tomorrow, Derek would be locked in a room with five other people, one being a dominant. To top it all, he was expected to dominate along side her. He had never dominated along side someone, usually giving out to submit if the fight was not worth it. He had spent his free time in the week looking up domination tricks and the profiles of his fellow players. Derek was by far the most intimidating looking one, visually the most dominant. Hopefully just visuals would give him points and the group would just fall in their places. Even though it was an agreed upon arrangements, sometimes the subs of the group wanted a little push, a dominant presence to egg on the submission. A strong tone, pointed stare, or once even a growl and they would assume the nights role. 

As the beers start to settle into his system, Erica and Boyd shuffled him out to the car. Kind enough to dump him off on his bed before going to Boyd's and 'sleep'. Derek may be drunk but the noises coming from their direction left a shadow of a doubt on what they were doing. Lucky, they seemed equally tired, and after one particularly breathy moan soft snoring started to be emitted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preview for next chapter:  
> "So is that what you plan to do to us?" Stiles leered, leaning into Derek's personal space as much as the table let him. Derek huffed at the boys obvious interest. A bright flush painting his cheeks, either from interest or an incredibly low tolerance to the half glass of beer he downed.   
> "Only if you want." Derek said, checking Isaac in his periphery. "I'm sure I have a colored rope that you'd look good in."  
> "I've been told red is my color." A pale hand wrapped around Derek wrist, warm and slightly damp. The fingers brushed along the vain before riding up higher.  
> "You'd better be careful or I'll have to go get it now." He said staring down stiels.


	3. Dorei

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the new chapter all. like I said I am going to try and update regularly but to be honest Im not sure how much. I had a really rough Christmas break, got a lot of really bad news one right after the other in the span of a week. Now I am back at school and trying to balance emotional stress and school stress. So please be patient with me on the whole updating thing and words of encouragement, wether about the story or just in general, would definitely help. Its actually the reason I have even made this update today, so thank you all for the support.

What little energy gained in sleep was lost as soon as Derek opened his eyes. Nerves spiked through his body, forcing him up, even though it was his day off. With nothing pressing to do, the day went by as a slow blur. Minimal tasks melting into one another at an agonizing pace. Derek spent his empty hours writing 3 pages of his thesis paper than deleting 4. Even a trip to the gym did little to pass the time. He shucked his gym clothes when arriving home and made the effort to take an extra long shower. Cleaning over every bodily crevice at least twice. When that didn't make the time pass, he took up his razor and brush and styled his hair and beard. Cleaning up the lined edges of his scruff and styling his hair just so. Giving it that typical to-hot-to-try-but-really-I-tried-really-hard look. Still with time to spare, he organized his rope drawer. Then reorganized again, taking time to carefully pick out different colors to give to each of the others at the party. Finally, after four outfit changes and thirteen Facebook checks, it was time to head out.

The address was a simple, clean place, a bar surrounded by residentials. Rolling up in the Camaro, Derek managed to find a spot after only two passes. 7:51, a little early but punctuality was never a sin. The outside seemed calm but once inside, the bar was thriving with life of a Friday night. Small families, guys nights and bachelorette parties were spread across the open space. Soft clinking of glass, metal, and ceramic was heard under the swell of cheerful chats. Finding a wide enough booth, Derek tossed his leather jacket down, and went up to the bar.

The bartender was a polite young woman, who looked like she just turned 21 but already mastered the bar. She could make a mean drink though and that's all that mattered in the end. Whiskey in hand, Derek turned to come face to face with a beauty of a red head. Finally dressed in fashionable clothes and makeup perfectly arranged, the young woman had a winning smile and a look in her eye that hinted that she knew more than she was telling.

"BIGbad88?" She asked with an air of already knowing the answer. Her glossed lips curves up as Derek's eyes dropped to look.

"Yes?" He said, dry mouth, coming out more as a question than the one she posed. He raised his hand to shake, trading stares with her. "Call me Derek."

"Lydia. Pleasure." She cooed, gripping his hand in a fierce grip. The fuchsia nails painted a lovely contrast against his tanned hands. He knew she would look lovely in a set of lavender ropes. Taking inventory, he was pleased to remember that he had that exact set of jute rope in his bag, in the car.

"I'm sitting over there." He pointed to his booth. Leading the way. "So have you done this often?"

"The sex site or the party?" Lydia asked, following close behind. Derek could feel her eyes on his back. Good thing he wore his 'sexy' jeans, as Erica called them.

"Both."

"Than yes but only once for the party. Though never with strangers." She started, unbuttoning her tweed coat. Derek placed his drink down before being the gentleman and helping her out of it. "Thank you."

"Frat party gone wild?"

"No, just curious friends. We definitely grew closer after." A salacious wink accompanying the comment. Once her jacket was properly placed on a chair back, Lydia took up residence in it. Derek retook his spot in the booth, sipping his whiskey, not having much to say. "And you? Many parties"

"One." He stated, not interested in sharing all the details of the night. It was embarrassing enough that Erica made him give a play by play. Some of those details were not meant to be stated outside of porn sites and more adventurous fanfictions.

"Well, you had some very good reviews. Interesting if I say so myself." She went on, running two fingers along the knuckles of Derek hand. This girl was trouble, she was the kind of confident beauty who knew every bit as much. Shoot, if it wasn't for her bio, Derek would have been floored to find she was a sub. Two could play that game though, flirting was easy, he could do that. Turning his hand, he gripped her delicate fingers in his. Raising them to his lips. He gently brushed them with his lips, just letting his heated breathe warm them, before place a solid kiss against each knuckle. Lydia's face changed almost instantly. Her strong smirk melted into a small open mouth sigh and her sharp eyes glazed over in dreamy appreciation. Tilting her head to the side, a cascade of red curls fell loose from her shoulder. The light did wonders, highlighting every gentle tone in those silky tresses. Derek made a note to play with her hair later. Just carding his finger through it was guaranteed to be pleasure on its own.

"Starting with out us?" A voice, obnoxiously loud, came out from the crowd noise. Politely dropping Lydia's hand, Derek turned to look at the intruder. Two young men stood at the edge of the table. One in some sudo Peter Pan pose, hand on his waists, the other just staring blankly at the carpet.

"That's what happens when you are late." Lydia shot back, with a quick look at his watch Derek found that she was correct. The snarky comment however was lost on the wannabe Peter Pan as he openly oggled over the red head. Shucking his own waist coat, probably pilfered from his daddies business suits, the guy plopped down next to Lydia.

"Hello there, my name is Stiles, and what might your’s be?" He asked, leaning in with wrapped interest. His ignored friend taking a seat next to Derek.

"Stiles?" Derek asked, what kind of parent names their child that? The man however didn't seem too interested in paying attention to him. Much more interested in getting Lydia's attention.

"Nickname. My real name was so complex it was banned from the English language." He threw out, obviously use to answering that question. Lydia finally gave in and looked at the boy, giving a rather condescending smile. No matter what face she made though, Stiles beamed like he just won the lottery. "This is my friend Scott by the way."

"Hi." The guy next to Derek offered up. Clearly this was the friend that was dragged to everything. Most likely his participation in tonight's party was Stiles’ idea. Scott seemed nice enough, wearing a lacrosse lettermans jacket and having a look of easy handsomeness. Derek noticed as Scott raised his head that his jaw was slightly lopsided, tilted to the left. In the right light I gave his face a cute boyish look. Must make him endearing to the ladies. He looked at Derek and gave a small smile, which Derek returned.

"You the friend I heard about?" He asked, already knowing the answer. Scott nodded, finally getting comfortable, or just to warm in the heated bar, to take off his jacket.

"Yeah. It was Stiles idea, he just wanted company." The brunette offered up, watching as Stiles talked avidly with an increasingly irritated Lydia. Derek grunted, acknowledging the fact as he watched the interaction across the table. Stiles seemed like a hyperactive puppy and a sugar high child all rolled into one. He could carry on a conversation with himself and waved his arms enough to be seen from outer space. Derek was tempted to go get some rope right then and tie them together in public. There was a sparkle in his eye though, his expressive brown eyes conveying his constant interest. A energy for life usually only seen in small children. His hair was spiked whether from sleep or styled was hard to tell but it added to the exciting ball of life that was this kid. His pale skin was doted in several dark moles, providing a map for wandering explorers. Derek was tempted to trace a pattern into the constellation of dark marks.

"And what is your name?" Scott asked, more interested in talking with Derek than watching Stiles attempted flirting.

"Derek."

"And you are suppose to be... Our... Uh." Clearly this kid was out of his element. All he needed to do was whimper and quiver and he'd have the lost puppy look down.

"Only if you are comfortable with that." Derek knew all too well the importance of trust. In both aspects of the dom/sub dynamic. The dominant may be vocal in calling the shots, but a good dom always let the sub determine what happened. Scott visibly relaxed at that. "Is this a first for you?"

"No, I mean... Yeah. I've done the thing I mean. Just not with so many people... Or not someone I haven’t dated for a while." Derek was just happy to hear the kid wasn't a virgin. He had had his fair share of virgins looking to cash in their cards but never with a group. Something like that seemed inappropriate when paired with the concept of kink sex parties.

"Well, it's all up to you. I won't do what you don't want." Derek stated, patting Scott on the shoulder. Reassurance was key, wether dragged here or not, the kid deserved to have a good time. Good times only started when you were comfortable. "What do you want?" He asked, just trying to keep the conversation up. Scott fumbled at the question, dropping his phone that he was nervously messing with. A bright flush grew across his cheeks, giving him an even more boyish look. It suited him quite well. Derek would be lying if he said he was interested in bring that flushed look out more as the night went on.

"I.... Uh... Well I kind of like the idea of uh.... I mean, I am so use to being in control and taking care of people, it would be nice to... Not." He finished suddenly, becoming increasingly self conscious as he talked. Derek put a comforting hand on his shoulder, silent encouraging him to go on.

"Okay, so you want someone to take control. You're in the right place than."

"He also likes to be spanked." Stiles staged whispered, loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. A flushed frown crosses Scott's face as he stares at his silent phone. "Come on man, you need to be open about it, or else the night won't be as good as you want it to be." Stiles went on ignoring the miffed look on Lydia's face. As well meaning as the statement seemed, it is rather rude to out someone's kinks like that. Derek gave a pointed look to convey such before turning back to Scott.

"Stiles is right, even if that was uncalled for." He said as Stiles gave an indignant snort. "It's embarrassing but we need to know so we can give you what you want."

"Okay, but you have to make sure you play with Stiles nipples. He goes crazy for that." Scott shoots back giving a sudden luscious smirk at his friends shocked face. So Scott had a playful side it seemed.

"Dude! That was one time. Come on you said you'd never talk about that."

"All's fair man." Scott replied over the laughs of Lydia and Derek. The group dissolved into comfortable chatting after that. Discussing their experiences and ideas for the night, taking plenty of time to jab at Stiles’ ‘nipple fixation’, as Scott called it.

"H-hello." A quiet but clear enough voice said just barely catching everyone's attention. At the head of the table is a tall guy, slouched into himself slightly, with curly hair. His hands are fidgeting in his pockets but he has a kind smile. "I am Isaac."

"Are you HeartofSilvers’ friend?" Lydia asked, clearly she had taken a look at profiles too. This kid, while cute, was nothing close to the salacious blonde from the chat.

"Yeah, uh, Kate. She is getting things ready at the room. I'm suppose to take you there when she texts." He said, gently taking a seat at the end, between Lydia and Scott. The small group of party member nod, greeting the newcomer and introducing themselves. The group went back to their conversation, picking up where they left off. Making fun of Stiles.

"So Isaac, we were just sharing our interest. Like Stiles’ fascination with his own chest..." Lydia started, barely blinking an eye at Stiles open mouthed embarrassment. "Since you’re not on the site, care to share?"

"Nothing special." He said, fidgeting in his seat. The reply was normal but his behavior made it seem like he'd rather die than discuss his sex life. A bit of an issue when you are about to join a sex party. "Mostly, at this point I... I like.... Comfort." He said quietly.

"Comfort?" Stiles asked giving Isaac a confused look, which earned him a silent nod.

"Yeah... Just something simple... You know?" Shaking heads of no from Scott and Stiles was overshadowed by the bright look on Lydia's face.

"I get it. You want a dominant to give you their utter attention, like your the center of the world. Like something special and to be cherished, yes?" She said wisely. Derek watched closely as Isaac studied Lydia's face before smiling and nodding. The smile fell however when he looked at Derek.

"Yeah. Just something nice and... Easy."

"I'm sure that can be arranged." Lydia offered, turning to Derek expecting him to add too the conversation. He couldn't think of anything to really add, so he just nodded and smiled. Isaac's eyes brightened slightly and he seemed to final sit back in his chair. No longer sitting on edge like he wanted to bolt. As the conversation continued Derek kept his eye on the boy. He had curly hair and wide eyes that made him look young and naive. He stayed mostly silent throughout, only talking when asked something directly. He would shoot Derek quiet looks, hoping to go unnoticed, that had a bit of wonder and hesitance in them.

"Would anyone like a drink." Stiles piped up with after a rather goofy story about him almost setting fire to his house with a microwave, a toaster pop, and tin foil. Everyone stopped chuckling to add in their affirmatives. Derek nodded along with the rest, though he questioned whether any of them were over 21.

"I'll go get us a pitcher." Isaac said, shooting up and heading to the bar before anyone could say what they wanted. Though none of them seemed too put out about the prospect of free beer.

"So you are telling me your first time was at a sleepover? With three girls and one guy?" Stiles wondered out loud, clearly starstruck by anything Lydia related. It seemed to become harder and harder for Lydia to be perturbed by the attention. Clearly she was basking in the absolute attention given to her by the boy.

"I hangout with a particularly adventurous groups of people." She said, giving a 'nonchalant' shrug. One look at Stiles and you could see him working out how he could be the next lucky guy. 

"Though, there is one thing we have yet to try." She continued turning her attention to Derek, complete with a small hair flick. "And I am interested to have someone showing me the 'ropes'." Derek gave a small snort and wide smirk. She was a feisty one.

"I am sure that can be arranged."

"And what are we arranging?" Isaac asked as he came back, several glasses and one giant pitcher in hand. He started to pass out the glasses, Derek declined for now since he was not done with his own drink yet.

"Did none of you read the bios?!" Lydia asked, scandalized.

"I looked at the pictures. Liked what I saw." Stiles said like that made everything better. In Lydia's eyes, though, it wasn't.

"Derek here. Practices the fine art of Shibari." She said pointing a finely painted nail a him. "And quite good at it from what his reviews say."

"What's Shibari?" Scott asked, shrinking a little in his seat, embarrassed at his lack of knowledge.

"It's Japanese rope bondage." Derek explained in basic terms, understanding the guys ignorance. "It's a form of bondage that focuses more on the process of binding. Taking the time to great patterns and complex positions as part of the sexual act. It is an art form, also known as Kinbaku-bi which translates to the beauty of tight binding." The look in Scott's eyes was a mixture of fascination and continued curiosity. Stiles however look like he was about to jump Derek's bones just at the thought. He definitely need to tie that one up, if only just to keep him still. Lydia's knowing smirk was firm in place and Isaac looked like he was about to have a heart attack. Clearly the concept of bondage scared the poor kid to death. Unsure of where to go from there, Derek fished his phone out of his pocket. Thumbing through his photos to find one of his better pictures, he passed it around. Taken back when he was living at home. It is a cropped image of his torso laying bed, tightly caged in with jute rope that receded under the confines of his black boxer briefs. It was one I his first ever attempts and it was what hooked him to his obsession. The looks of awe were universal across the table, even a small look of wonder passed Issas face as he took a peek.

"So is that what you plan to do to us?" Stiles leered, leaning into Derek's personal space, as much as the table let him. Derek huffed at the boys obvious interest. A bright flush painted Stiles’ cheeks, either from interest or an incredibly low tolerance to the half glass of beer he downed.

"Only if you want." Derek said, checking Isaac in his periferie. "I'm sure I have a colored rope that you'd look good in."

"I've been told red is my color." A pale hand wrapped around Derek’s wrist, warm and slightly damp. The fingers brushed along the vein before riding up higher.

"You'd better be careful or I'll have to go get it now." He said staring down Stiles. He snorted lightly, retreating his hand before throwing it over Lydia's shoulder and rubbing the skin he found there. Lydia gave no refusals to the stroking and snuggled closer. A happy flush rising across her cheeks as well. Hyped up for the night, Stiles thrusted his beer into the air, demanding cheers. A hearty chuckle passed across the table as they cheered to the night. Derek downing the rest if his drink only to have Scott pour some beer in its place.

"You know," he said quietly over the excited chatter between Isaac and Stiles. "I have always been interested in bondage. My ex-girlfriends never liked it. Would you mind... Maybe showing me the ropes?" Scott asked, a look of pure embarrassment passing his face a moment later. "Oh god. That was a terrible pun. I am so sorry, I didn't mean too." Derek just laughed over the mumbled apologies, a taking a swig of his drink.

"I love to show you the ropes." He beamed. The conversation lolled about, each person relaxing into the heat of company and the warmth of alcohol. Each member of the group had their fair share of stories and quirks that provided conversational fauter. Derek even managed to let loose some of his more embarrassing stories, like the time he got a basketball to the face because he was staring at a girl in the bleachers. A story that seemed to resonate with Stiles and Scott, who took turns sharing their own lacrosse mishaps.

A quick chime came from Isaacs phone, catching the attention of the group. Isaac jumped with a start, going from leaning back in his chair to hunched over chewing on his lip. The sudden noise must have shocked him, all the relaxation that had ebbed in was quickly evaporated.

"Kate says everything is ready." He said typing in a response. "Derek, would you mind driving us all?"

"Yeah, no problem." He smiled watching as Stiles downed the last of the pitcher and shared in a giggle with Lydia. Scott was leaned up against Derek's shoulder, staring a little bleary eyes at his dregs.

"Right! Let's go get this party started!" Stiles cheered, the slight sound of a slur sneaking in. With hearty agreements the group collected their stuff and headed to Derek's Camaro.

The two door had little space to spare but some shuffling around slotted everyone a seat. Stiles, Scott, and Isaac in the back, with Isaac’s long legs practically thrown over Scott's lap, and Lydia in the shotgun spot. The drive was filled with classic rock music, slightly drowned out by the chuckles and flirtatious noises in the back. A giant smile was plastered across Derek's cheeks as he watch, he's from the rear view mirror. Scott and Isaac were collapsed into each other, Scott's wandering hands trying to coax out little moans of application for the uptight boy. Isaac was content to just press his face into the nook of Scott's neck and lopsided jaw. Stiles opted ignore the duo in favor of raking his fingers through Lydia's hair. Lydia made appreciative noises as she stroked Derek's hand that was gripping the shift gear. A happy haze of company and sex filled the compartment as the car roller down the road.

Pulling up to the motel, the group happily tumbled out the two doors. Isaac led the way down the open air hall, as Scott plastered himself along his back leaving kisses cross his neck. Derek followed hauling along Lydia and Stiles, both who made it their mission to feel every muscle under his shirt. Giddy giggles spilled out of loose lips as Lydia pressed gloss lips into Derek's shoulder. Stiles saw the challenge and took to sloppily kissing Derek's ear between laughs. Enjoying the touches Derek rearranged to two in his arms and the bag slung over his shoulder. He started to whisper promises of tying them up if they didn't stop, to which both Lydia and Stiles increased their teasing tenfold.

"You two are trouble." He said nosing at Stiles spiked hair. The pair shared a mischievous snicker before both making a beeline for the underside of his jaw. The mix of soft gloss lips and persistent nips sent Derek alight. He hugged the duo closer showing his appreciation by rubbing his scruff against their cheeks.

"Keep that up and I'll have to punish you."

"Hmmh. Looks like mister Sour Wolf doesn't like us, Lyd's." Stiles said, forgetting Derek's jaw in exchange to trade kisses with Lydia. Lydia was all for the exchange and quickly it became Derek's jobs to hold the two up right but also at enough of a distance so they didn't start the party to soon. Scott and Isaac weren't faring much better, to interested in their sparing tongues to avoid bumping into walls.

Just as they rounded the hallway, Isaac pulled out a flask, which he promptly downed. Scott made an undignified whine, trying to grab the empty liquor container. His frustration at the empty flask was softened however with a sloppy kiss to the forehead. They walked up to a fake wood door with the placard 145. Isaac gave only one knock before the door was ripped open by an intimidating blonde woman.

"So I see you all have started." She said with a smirk on her lips, pulling Scott and Isaac in by their shirts. "Aren't you just precious. Look at him Isaac, doesn't he have just the cutest face, with that hair and those eyes" she gushed leering at Scott. Isaac gave a small nod as he dodged her hand trying to play his head. The woman, Kate, gave Isaac a glance before turning her attention to the last three.

"You must be Kate." Derek tried to introduce, holding out the hand that was also holding up Stiles.

"That's me gorgeous. And what might your name be?"

"Derek... And this is Stiles and.... This is Lydia." He slightly slurred showcasing the two teens slung across his arms.

"Wow you're hot! Right Lyds!?" Stiles announced tugging at the redhead's arm.

"You’re not so bad your self, lover boy." She replied, dragging a red finger nail down the side of Stiles cheek. "Name's Kate."

"Charmed, can we start now?" Lydia said with all the inflection of a bored five year old. Kate simple chuckled at the girls reaction as she gave each person a once over.

"Don't worry. We will be starting real soon." That smirk would just not disappear. "For now, why don't you and Stiles make yourselves comfortable." Lydia and Stiles were quick to follow the instructions, heading towards the bed. They flopped down into the single queen in a mess if limbs and giggles. Kate took the opportunity to fill Derek's now empty arms. She smiled up to him and worked her hands down, feeling everything his chest hadn to offer.

"You make quite the specimen of a dominant." She oozed, raking her nails down his arms. Derek nodded, half listening, his fogged brain more interested in the show Isaac and Scott were giving. The pair leaned up against the wall, Scott caging the taller boy in with his arms and leveling a chain of hickies across his neck. Isaac had his eyes closed as tight as possible, his hand tightly fisiting Scott's shirt. Kate seemed to notice Derek's interest in the pair and stopped to look herself. A small snarl noise came out of the short woman. "Isaac! Go sit on the bed!" She barked, a content smirk coming back as the boy jolted into action, fleeing to the bed. Scott stood there staring at the wall, confused by the sudden lose of a warm body.

"Scott, why don't you go join the rest." Derek offered, watching as the boy followed the suggestion.

"So you are dominant." Kate stated, smiling back at him.

"Only when the mood strikers."

"Well let's get this party started than." With that Kate turned in her heels and took two confident strides towards the bed. "Scott! Get in your hands and knees!" Ordered without a bit of emotion, Scott followed. Derek watched silently as Kate order everyone around. Telling them what to do, how to do it, and ready to provide criticism if not done properly. "Isaac, sit next to Lydia.” “Scott, why don't you put your pretty mouth to work on Lydia.” “Stiles, why not return the favor to Scott.” “Isaac! Keep your hands to yourself or I'll have to punish you!" All these orders done with a silent acceptance. At Kate's pointed stare, Derek threw in a few orders of his own, forcing Scott to keep his hand to himself and letting Lydia and Isaac kiss each other.

Soon the room was humid from body heat and filled with the sounds of sex. Under Derek's watchful eyes and Kate's loud orders, the four remaining members were partaking in various pleasures. Derek grabbed the extra chair by the bed to watch as Scott went down on Lydia. Her appreciative moans, pressed into the side of Isaac's neck. Stiles was knelt over Scott’s back, still on all fours, and was laying kiss across the boys back and ass, between groping hands.

Lydia's mouth lowered to wrap around Isaac right nipple, leaving the nub slick with saliva and gloss. Isaac pushed her closer, showing his appreciation and sending Derek glances. The looks were a cross between pure enjoyment and longing for approval, something Derek was ready to give with a pat to Isaac’s head. Gripping Derek palm, the curly haired boy tugged, insistent on having Derek's fingers attached to the other nipple. Smiling lightly, Derek was ready to offer up help, only to have Kate slap Isaacs hand away with a stern glare. Quickly the boy shuffled back into himself, only looking at the participants on the bed.

Lydia's skirt had been rucked up around her waist, obscuring the top most view of Scott's head. Leaning over, Derek raised it high, getting a better view. Scott was eager to impress, going to town, his fingers spreading Lydia's lips to tongue at her clit. He licked several long stops across the flushed flesh, watching Lydia's face as she moaned. Sometimes, he stopped to puff warm air onto her sensitive skin or to lightly poke at it with the tip of his tongue. Clearly he had a lot of experience giving head. When he noticed Derek watching, he changed tactics, shoving his tongue deep into Lydia. The redhead let out a breathy squeal as Scott shoved his wiggling tongue further. Derek pet his fingers through Scott's messed hair, than gripping it tight, he shoved the boys face in as far as he could into the redhead's center. Appreciative moans coming from both.

A pale hand wrapped around Derek's wrist, twinning the fingers. Stiles tugged insistently until Derek gave in with a chuckle and threaded his finger through Stiles spiked hair. He petted a few strands before lowering his finger, tracing along his lips. Lips that were wrapped around one glob of Scott's butt, incessantly leaving hickeys. He gave a tooth grin that dug his teeth into the flesh, Scott giving a small groan.

"Now that wasn't nice." Derek said , giving the pale boy a swat on the butt. A loud gasp melted into a groan, Stiles leaded forward, wiggling his ass invitingly. "Say you're sorry." He ordered giving two hard smack when Stiles shook his head no. The room went quiet, listening to the loud sound of skin on skin. Seeing that Stiles was going to be stubborn, Derek rearranged himself next to the boys hip. Raising his hand high he gave the boy a chance to change his mind. When nothing happen Derek dropped his hand down with a loud smack, five spanks rapid fire. Each smack was deliverer to each cheek at random, never giving Stiles a chance to prepare. Red flushed palm print began to form on the boys rear.

"Now, say you're sorry or I'll have to give you ten more." He warned with a stern look and a red palm raised. A heated flush spread across Derek's face at the sight of the up turn red ass. Stiles gave a Derek a pointed look before lowering his eyes like a chastised child.

"Sorry Scott." He mumbled, running his cheek against the affronted skin, already forming a healthy hickey. Derek gave a small smile as he patted the pale boys head, Stiles giving a beaming smile in return.

"You are quite the natural dominant. A true dominant." Kate said to Derek with and appraising smile.

"I can be." He replied, going a flirtatious look to Stiles. "When the mood strikes."

"Mhhh. Be careful, you give these submissives to much attention they'll walk all over you."

"I'm not so sure. You're a good boy right, Stiles? You'll be good for me?" An enthusiastic nod was all he needed.

"He says that now, but just wait." Kate mumbled to herself, turning to face Isaac again. "Lydia, don't you dare touch that boy's cock." The redhead gave a small smirk before blatantly ignoring the order. Kate let out an aggravated growl, a shadow crossing her features. "I think it's time to take this up a level." Derek watched as she turned to a duffle in the corner. Leaning over, the blonde pulled out a set of handcuffs and several other leather restraints. Next she pulled out Derek's own backpack, pulling out every bundle of rope he brought.

"Derek, be a dear and set Lydia up in one of your fancy harnesses" she said in a sweet voice. Derek pulled the lavender bundle from the pile. Turning and tugging Lydia, loose limbed, from the pile of half dressed bodies. The three boys left piled on the bed went on without her grappling at new exposed skin. Scott being completely naked becoming the central focus for the two other shirtless boys.

"What can I do for you big boy?" Lydia asked falling all over Derek, running fingers across his chest while running her cheek against his sternum.

"I'm gonna take this rope," He said holding up the lavender jute bundle. "And tie this tight little body up in a nice little harness. Now, strip to your underwear."

"What, you don't want to see me naked?"

"Don't worry, there will be plenty of time for that later. Strip." With an appreciative smile, Lydia grabbed the hem of her shirt. Pulling it up in that cute little crossed armed way that women do, to reveal a sheer peach lace bra. Pink nipples peeked out through the thin lace, small little mounds begging to be tweaked. Lydia smirk at Derek's stare, making sure she had his attention before unzipping the back of her blue skirt. Slowly she lowered the high waist to reveal her curved hips and matching sheer undies. Unable to keep his hands to himself, Derek traced the line of her underwear over her pelvis, just under her small belly, with two wide fingers. Matching her smile, Derek began to unwind the bundle, watching her face as she studied his movements.

Taking the two matching lengths from the bundle, he folded a lark's head in the center. He slipped each loop around Lydia's left and right arms, sitting them snug to her shoulders. Take the four stands he knotted them together between her pert breasts, cushioned in the alcove made there. Leaning close, breathing in her floral scent, he wrapped the lines down to her lower back. By bring the rope back to the front, he repeated the process just below her belly button. Wrapping each around her thigh twice, the roped hugged the skin and gently pulled her lower lips apart. With the leftover rope, Derek looped it back up, wrapping it around each band it passed on the way up. Knotting the last inch into a halter under her hair which she held up ever so kindly.

She looked amazing, just as Derek had hoped. Her red hair laid in full curls over her right shoulder, striking against her slightly tan skin. The lavender jute rope complemented the light pink flush of her lips, lingerie and nipples. She came closer, swaying her hips as she walked. Pressing their fronts together, Derek wrapped his warm palms around her waist. She was soft and warm and smelled of spring flowers.

"Too tight?"

"Feels amazing." She said, her soft lips brushing against his Adam's apple. She chuckled softly swaying back and forth as Derek traced the lavender lines of jute across her chest. Sneaking down he lightly pinched her nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers.

"Wow! Lydia you look amazing!" Stiles yelled from the bed, leaving the other two to ogle her. Being mindful to not leave the bed, per Kate's demands.

"Stiles, keep quiet." Kate barked, giving Lydia a side glance. "Lydia, come here, stop bothering Derek." Without a peep, Lydia backed up and stood where she was told. Taking a pair of cuffs, Kate looped them through a towel rack by the wet bar. "Now stay nice and quite sweets."

Kate then dragged Scott off the bed. With a pair of menacing looking leather cuffs, she fastened him to the curtain rod bolted into the wall. Patting him on the face, she turned to her attention Isaac, dragging him off the bed by his hair. She left him in feedle on the floor, more interested in forcing Stiles onto his stomach. Four cords of rope later and Stiles was tied right to the the bed posts. Next was Isaac who was gracelessly cuffed to the radiator, left in a curled up ball.

Derek watch as he reacted to Kate's presence. The others were rowdy, but ready to do what the dom said. Isaac however, looks scared out of his mind. Only willing to do what she said because he was too afraid of what would happen if he didn't. That started to bother Derek's fogged brain. Isaac was Kate's plus one, a boyfriend or at least good friend who she knew better than the rest. Yet, after all that, he seemed to be the one most uncomfortable with the blonde, terrified even.

"So mister big and bad. Are you ready for some fun?" Kate asked, sauntering up into his space, completely ignoring the others. Derek watched her with a neutral expression. Her tight body pressed up against his chest, pressing her soft lips against his, long nails curling around his neck. She pressed their lips together insistently, demanding. The intent to submit had to be pushed down as Derek returned the harsh press of open mouth kisses. They pushed and pulled one each other hand tangling into shirts and hair. Derek had never kissed a dominant while dominating himself, and the experience was a force to be reckoned with. All loud grunt, harsh pushes and teeth. Derek feels more like a wild animal than a man. The wall slammed into Derek's back as Kate started to invade his mouth with her tongue. The two battle for dominance, letting out open mouthed groans. Fingers gripped right to his hair, shoving Derek head to the wall. An assault on his body as those deceiving lay strong hands pushed his arms above his head. His nerves felt alight as those teeth nipped at his jugular. A harsh bite accompanied by the sound of metal clicking started to pull Derek from his euphoria. Looking up Derek was confused by his state.

"What are you doing?" He asked as Kate backed up, thumbing away the small trail of saliva attached to her chin. Derek felt his own chain of drool beside his mouth but couldn't do anything about it. Tugging lightly Derek realized the ceiling pipe we was chained to wasn't going to give. He was strung up and unable to move, the handcuffs holding tight.

"Why am I chained up?" He demanded to know.

"Oh don't worry baby. The fun’s about to begin." She said turning and make a small circle around the room. Every occupant tied up except for her.

"I'm suppose to dominate. Why tie me up?"

"Because, sweetie, you'll be better this way. Now just sit back and relax, I’m about to put on a show."

"Let me go."

"Now why would I do that?"

"I said so!" "Don't try that dominant tone with me!" Kate raised her voice, a sickening cold undertone taking over.

"I'm about to teach you the meaning of domination. Now relax, who knows, you might learn something." With a sick smirk, Kate pulled we hand up, the palm coated in a layer of white dust. Taking a deep breath, she blew into her palm pushing the dust into Derek face. The world began to fade as Derek's mind began to get muddled. The edges got dark and angles started to tilt. A loud crack filled the room as colors faded and Derek blacked out.


	4. Sensei

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Lovelies. So I have the newest chapter for you. I am not gonna lie these last few months have been really hard on me, an incredible amount of lose happened for me. However, all your support comments and kudos put so many smiles on my face. Thank you all so so so much! That said it will be a long while till the next chapter so please be patient with me and I will definitely make it worth you time. All the support is appreciated and it may even inspire me to write faster. Thank you again! have a great day everyone!!

A thick rancid smell permitted the air, making each breathe a chore for Derek to take. His muscles felt tight, chest heavy and arm numb, elevated over his head long past physically comfortable time. A dull ringing in his ears kept constant time with the slow rhythm of his heart. His brain felt slow, muddled down like it was drowning in an ocean of beer. However, he only had two glasses last night, no where near the usually six or seven it takes for him to have a hangover.  The sounders of hangered gasps started to seep in under the sound of his heart. Wet and ragged, the outside breathing becomes distracting and disconcerting. Derek tried to lift his head, heavy with fog. His eyes opened uneven, thick with crust, only to re close under the a barrage of sudden stimulus.

The ache in his shoulder persisted, traveling down to pinch his chest tight. His legs wobbled, begging to sit, but any time he tried to lower himself, he found himself unable to breathe. Suddenly the sound of crying filled his mind. It was The kind of crying a child did when daddy never came home.  Broken, like something has been stolen from them with the departure of their father. Derek raises his head up and quickly opens his eyes, seeking out the cry.

He wished now that he hadn't.

Blood. Red and thick, seeping into the white sheets of the bed and painted across the mole covered back. Derek could feel his stomach retch as he started to count the deep lines slashed into a pale skin. Stiles’ back was ripped apart, shredded to the point of resembling strips of meat. His eyes are closed, breathing shallow, blacked out. the tear streaks on his cheeks and red welts on his wrists tell for the ordeal he went through.

faint movement drew Derek’s attention from the bed. Looking just pasted the gory scene Derek sees Scott, slumped held up by the leather bonds. His eyes are glazed, head swaying slightly as if unable to truly stay fixed. His skin is etched with thick spider webs of angry red burns. Scars trying to imitate god’s natural fury, lightning. They stretch out in radial patterns from several puncture points around his torso. Small lines if blood trailed across the lightening scars down his legs.

Nearby, Lydia was slumped. Her body slack, barely moving. Not a mark on her but clearly not okay. Still tied up all pretty in her peach lingerie and lavender rope, yet her skin was a sick pale color. Transparent almost with each vain standing in stark contrast next to the ropes. Derek just hoped she was still alive

The world was thrown, off kilter with no point of calibration. It felt like when you fall. You have no memory if actually going down but you’re suddenly on the ground, palms bloody and a possible torn pant leg to attest to the incident. Here he stood in a room full of broken batter naked people with no memory of entering the room. It was fuzzy, the more he pressed to remember the worse it got. Tilting his head up, Derek saw his hands held taught in a pair of cuffs. They were looped through a pipe in the ceiling, keeping his arms up past the point of numbness.

Whimpering filled the room, broken. Derek whipped his head around. There, kneeling on the dirty floor was Isaac. Hands tied to the broken radiator, that hissed and sizzled loudly. Three large bruises blossomed across his face, painting the skin in red, yellows and purples. His brow was split with a thin line of blood trailing into his eye. He whined softly as to ask for forgiveness but too afraid to actually use the words. Long nailed hands grasped the curls of his head, tugging it back at an uncomfortable angle. Putting his neck in display for the cruel eyes watching.

"You have been such good boy, haven't you?" A sickly sweet voice asked. Kate leered down, giving a sick smirk at Isaac’s discomfort. Isaac slurred his whimpers, eyes dilated as if seeing nothing at all. Only a sloppy response managed to form.

"P...pweas... Sht...op." He begged.

"What was that, Love? You know I can't understand you if you don't articulate." She responded in a snarky teacher-esque voice.

"P....p....please... Shtop... Let... Em go."

"Oh. Now why would I do that? They have been such fun haven't they?" She said scraping her nails down the back of his neck. She snarled and tightened her hold at his shaking head. "Well no one asked for your opinion. Worthless submissive!" She shouted, smacking him across the face. A small sprinkling of blood flying up from the split brow. Isaac was finally forced to face Derek, he looked broken and dazed. Their eyes locked together, a bit of light coming back to those sad eyes. Kate gripped his face by the jaw, forcing him to look her in The eye again. Seeing the small spark again, Kate turned finally noticing Derek.

"Ahhh! You're awake! Good morning sleepy head. And how are you my big bad dominant?" She gushed, slowly walking towards him, swinging her hips for all it was worth. Her hands rubbed against his neck as she hugged him close. A wet slick feeling sticking to his skin. Her breasts pushed against his now shirtless chest and she brought her mouth close to bite his ear. "I was beginning to worry."

"What did... You... Do?" He asked, voice thick with the feeling of rocks and garble.

"What does it look like Der-Der?" She smirked. He was forced to look at the others in the room. Kate's grip on his jaw like a vice. In the corner was Lydia's taught body, still tied up. Her peach bra was stained in all kinds of unknown reddish fluids. Her arms were strung up right and her head thrown back. Wrapped around her neck was a untreated rope surrounded by angry red burns. The only thing keeping her from choking was the sheer will to keep herself upright. A will that looked ready to break at a moments notice.

"Let them go." Derek demanded, thrusting his body forward to dislodge her. Her touch was disgusting and left him cold and covered in blood. Her hands were cake in it as if she was finger painting with it.

"I'm thinking.... No." She smiled a Cheshire grin. "I mean come on we are just starting to get to the good part."

"You're a psycho." He spat, his mind was waking up with each new breathe.

"I'm a dominant. This is what we do. Look at this, look at this thing of beauty. This is what they were made for, to be dominated. To be bent over by the will of those better than them. Those who are like us."

"I'm not like you."

"Oh Der-Der. You and I are so much alike. True dominants! That is what we are, born to lead. Other people, oh they say they are dominant, nothing more than glorified nannies. One sad eyed look from these... Pups, and those frauds fall apart. By you, oh you are something special, I can see it. You remind me of... well, me! Youre a bit too naive, honestly, but young, determined and in charge. All you need is proper guidance, and then you can do wonders like this." She finished with a grand flourish, her voice gaining a fervor of a mad zeloot. Taking time to appreciate her own grotesque handiwork. Giving Derek one more glance over her shoulder, Kate returned to Isaac. Petting his hair lightly, carding through the curls, before knotting them rightly and tugging. Isaac let out a strangled sound, like a cat that just got it's tail stepped on. Fear seeping back into his glassy eyes as he looked at the blonde woman.

"Just look at them." Kate said softly, just barely loud enough for Derek and Isaac to hear. "So soft and delicate. They claim to be submissive. Say they can handle what their dominant wants, but do they? No. When push comes to shove, when it gets to hard or too 'painful' they fall apart! They never truly submit, always fighting, thinking they have a say in anything." She went on clearly talking to Derek even with her full attention on Isaac. He fingers fished into her pant pocket.

"That's why they need us. True dominants, someone who pushes them. Someone who teaches them what domination and submission truly means."

"Sh...stop." Isaac begged. Derek watched Kate's face go ice cold. Her cool eyes catching angry fire. The look make Derek's skin crawl. Isaac started to whimper louder, his body shaking as if he was freezing. His insides probably were from dread. With a sharp crack, Kate slapped the quivering boy across the face. An angry bruise already forming from the previous assault.

"Now none of that you lousy waste of space. Don't you think you've done enough today? I mean, what must Derek think of you?" With the tight grip in his hair, Isaac was forced to look Derek in the eye. Even from across the room Derek could see Isaac collapse even further into himself. Derek shifted his stance under the pipe. Tugging to get closer, as if to provide comfort to the boy. He didn't know what Kate was playing at. As Derek moved, the pipe gave a quiet groan. Old and rusted the L shaped pipe looked ready to fall out of the wall. The cuffs gave a soft squeal as the metals rubbed together but if Kate stayed distracted he could probably escape. As quietly as possible, Derek started to apply more weight to the pipe. His shoulders giving an angry twinge at the bad angle.

"You, my dear stupid submissive,  led all these kind, loving, trusting people to this very room. Even after the last party? I'm sure they wouldn't be very happy with you, if they found out... Well if they get to live long enough for that." She laughed as she pulled out a small pill bottle from her pocket. The orange plastic was filled to the brim with a clear liquid sloshing about. "Now, open up, it's time for your medicine."

Isaac struggled, pulling tight on the bonds and shaking his head. His lips were pressed tight. Kate sneered as she shoved her fingers into the corners of his mouth. With stretch lips Isaac open his teeth just long enough to bit down on her fingers. An enraged yell filled the room.

“You little shit!” Kate took her bloody fingers and wrapped them right around his throat. Tightening her grip you could see Isaacs’ windpipe be visibly crushed. Letting out a gasp, Kate poured the contents of the bottle into his open mouth. Letting go, she clamped his lips shut between sharp nails. Waiting for his Adam's apple to bob as he swallowed.

Derek held his breath, for a beat nothing happened. Than the whites of his eyes over took Isaac, as his pupils rolled back into his head. He slumped over, curls pressed close to the radiator.

"What did you give him!?"

"Nothing special. Just a recipe of my own concoction."she replied, toeing Isaacs slumped body. "Now that those pesky subs have all been handled, I can devote all my attention to you." Kate quickly walked into the attached kitchenette. She hummed a small tune as she went, barely there words being whispered under her breath. Returning twirl a long metal pole, a white hot plate attached to one end. Licking her thumb, she tapped it to the edge of the heated plate. The metal let out a steamy sizzle, like one of the skillet platters that Cora always loved.

"Now this might pinch a bit dear. But once you are all patched up, you will be my personal protege. Destined to continue on my great work."

“You’d think I’d ever go anywhere with you?”

“You will. With a little bit of this.” She purred, placing a small bag of white powder onto the side table. “Of course, killing you is also an option. thought that would be such a waste, don't you think?”

"Why me?" Derek asked trying to buy some extra time.

"Wow that handsome head of yours sure is thick, isn't it." She sneered fringing her fingers, the one they choked Isaac near to death, across his unshaven cheek. "You're the prettiest. A hot piece of ass like you will brag in all the others. See little Isaac there. He was cute, no? An easy choice to drag you all from the bar here. Only problem though, Isaac is a shit liar. You however, you are a switch, your whole life is a lie!"

"How is my life a lie?"

"Oh please, a smart boy like you should know, there's no such thing as switches. Just subs and doms who can't decide what they want in life." She continued, spinning the heated branding pole in her fingers. A promising threat for the future. "Now, hold still while I claim you as my own. Than we can go."

Kate patted Derek's left peck, letting her fingers linger. She leveled him with a heated stare, taking the branding rod in her right fist. Derek struggled, shifting his weight left to right to wiggle free. The pipe groaned ready to give out from the strain. Kate's eyes followed the spot on his chest she intended to mark, twitching back and forth as he moved. Than without a moment of hesitation she brought the brand down onto his skin.

His chest burned, the skin around the brand bubbling and reddening. The smell of burnt flesh fold his nose and Derek let out a wounded yell. His ribs felt like they were being stripped of their muscled protection. The feeling setting his nerves on fire while simultaneously numbing and killing them. His body convulsed, wrenching down his arms to protect his battered skin. With a loud snap, the pipe broke free as Derek's wrist caught fire. His elbows bashed down onto Kate's arm holding the brand in place. The force dislodging it's contact to his skin.

Woozy but seeing his chance, Derek dove for the brand. Shoving Kate to the floor and struggling for purchase of the rod. They fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs, each narrowly avoiding extra burns. Kate scratched at his face and when given enough room threw a few punches that could black out a boxer. She kicked out her heeled feet, to dislodge Derek's bigger mass, but Derek refused to budge. A piercing feeling hit his tender belly as he wrapped his hand around the rod. Using his full force, he pushes off the floor, taking the brand with him.

Kate lay on the ground, slightly stunned, but ready to continue. Raising the brand above his head, Derek brought it down with all his force. A sick sound shattering whack, like the sound of slapping meat, filled the room. Raising up again, he kept hitting. Again and again he brought the metal rod down. He tried to stop but the dread of her getting up again filled him, so he swing down to stomp it out. The smack sound became wet, as drops of blood started the splatter across his chest. She was down, but he just kept going. He had too. He had to protect them.

"Derek.... Stop." A quiet rasped voice said.

Derek froze, dropping the rod. It landed in a small pool of blood, trailing from blonde tresses. Kate lay at his feet, several bruise and broken bones sticking out on her pale skin. Gasping softly, Derek backed himself up against the wall. The steady support, cooling against his burning back and aching wrist. The blood was rushing in his ears, muffling the voice that clearly spoken.

Scott. He was awake, but just barely. Bleary eyes and tired, he hung loosely from his bonds, but his head was raised staring at Derek. For a moment, the world stopped, everything leveled out. Derek felt his mind clear, his goals center. Keep them safe.

Quickly bending down, Derek dig around Kate's body. Finding her phone, he fished it out. Luckily it was only cracked and not ruined. Opening the emergency calls, he got 911 in two rings.

"Hello, 911, what is your emergency?" A calm female voice answered over the line.

"Please help, we need the medics... They are hurt."

"Okay, where are you? Who is hurt?"

"I don't know. I don't remember anything. I think it's a hotel." He said, starting to hyperventilate. He can't remember a damn thing!

"Calm down Sir. Can you find anything with a name on it?" Derek rushed around checking the room. Old and dirty, didn't seem like a good enough description. Jumping to his feet he scramble the small table, digging through Kate's bag. Shoving anything he didn't need to the ground. Buried under her sick toys was a key. The motel was so old and cheap it still used metal keys. Stamped into the thick metal was block letters, motel Glen Capri.

"Motel Glen Capri! We are there!"

"Okay sure, I am checking the address now. Now Im going to need you to take a breath and tell me what happened."

"I don't remember! I woke up and they were all hurt. Please hurry, we need you, they are really hurt." He continued.

"Who is they, Sir?"

"My friends!"

"How many of them are there?"

"4."

"Okay Sir, the ambulances are on their way. The police should be there soon too."

A garbled reaching noise came from Isaac. His body thrashing about, convulsing like it was going haywire. Drool started to bubble and pool around his lips. His eyes were open but only the white showed. On warbling legs Derek raced towards Isaac. Dropping to his knees, he grabbed the boys face.

"Isaac! Isaac, wake up! Open your eyes Isaac!" He demanded, lightly patting the boys face to wake him. Nothing but a distressing choking noise came out. What ever Kate had poured down his throat was eating him from the inside. Tilting Isaac’s body forward Derek does the first thing he could think of, something he saw once in a movie. With two fingers together, he shoved his fingers knuckle deep. Suddenly the curly haired boy violent reached, emptying his stomach onto Derek’s lap. The liquid in his lap was tinted red.

"Derek.... Lydia." Scott whispered, lowering his head again. Derek whipped around. Lydia was slumped, face purple and chest unmoving. Rushing to his feet, he raced up to Scott. Unbuckling the leather straps he eased him onto his feet.

"Scott, Take care of Isaac. Get the that stuff out of him anyway you can." He said, pushing him towards Isaacs’ still shaking body. Scott quickly took his place, cradling Isaacs’ curly head and forcing him to empty his stomach. Rushing back to his own bag, Derek pulled out his scissors. A special pair just for his shibari, kept sharpened incase of emergency. Derek could hear the emaciated boys gasping breaths as he rushed to Lydia.

Slashing the rope around her neck, just missing her red tresses, he tossed the line across the room. Working as quickly as possible Derek sliced open the lavender jute rope. They cut seamlessly, revealing the slightly reddened pattern lines in their wake. Nothing compared to the enraged bruising across her throat. Once freed from Derek's interacted weavings, he lowered her slumped body to the floor.

Landing in his knees next to her body, he checked her pulse. It was faint, barely hanging in there. her breathing was slowly coming back, her chest moving in shallow rises. Derek just watch, fretting over what to do. He just barely knew CPR, forced to take it once in biology. There was nothing he could do. Absolutely nothing he could do could make things better, the pressure of that knowledge pressing against his temples.

"Derek, he isn't getting better." Scott said, bent over isaacs’ body. It had stopped shaking. Now he was still, with a ghastly color of white taking over the skin. Scott pressed himself closer to the unconscious boy, whipping away the sweaty curls plastered again isaacs’ face. His own hair was thick with tacky sweat. Derek watched as Scott started to sway on his knees. His head bobbing back and forth.

"Scott! Scott stay with me. You hear me Scott." Derek started to worry. With a soft thud, the injured boy slumped to the side. Laying unconscious next to Isaacs’ own prone body. "Scott! Wake up! Shit! Shit! Shit! Scott wake up!"

Things were falling apart. The room was deathly quiet except for Derek's wheezing. Any sound, anything over his own breathing would be welcome to the still silence. They were all going to die. Where were the damn emts?

A loud banging came from the door, a sense of urgency to it.

"Emts! Is anyone hurt in there?" A strong voice yelled through the fake wood door.

"Yes! Yes, please help!" Derek answered rushing to the door. He lifted the dead bolt just as the emergency workers burst through. In a rush of blues, uniformed men and women rushed into the cramped room. The sudden activity became stunning silence as the workers took in their surroundings. Several curse words poured from the lips of one man as he radioed in saying they need help.

Derek's mind fell into a fog. He could feel people talking to him, and hear them as the brushed past towards the others. Pairs of workers rushed to each person. Stretchers, resuscitators, and blankets flooded into the room. A warm wool orange blanket makings it's home around Derek's shoulders. A young woman with a kind smile accompanied the blanket. She fluttered about asking about his health and checking herself when answers were not adequate enough. Derek watched over her shoulder as the others put Scott and Isaac on separate stretchers. A breathing mask was wrapped around Lydia's head as a pair of gloved fingers gentle checked the damage to her throat. As one paramedic made their way to the bed, a look of horror crossed their face.

"Shit. Someone needs to call the sheriff." He said a green color taking over his complexion. As another radioed the sheriff department, he began to unlock Stiles' cuffs. The young paramedic tending to Derek, started to usher him out the door. She mentioned something about an ambulance and police, but all he could focus on was the stretchers being set up, even one for Kate.

Derek was shuffled out of the room. The open air was dancing in red and blue lights of the emergency vehicles. The few other guests of the motel were giving weary eyes looks to the newly arrived boys in blue. The emt with the kind smile lead Derek with a firm grip to the back of an ambulance. There she checked his wrist, gently rubbing along the swelling skin and examined the reddened welt of the brand. Quickly the ambulance worked rolled out the others as the police flooded in. Neon yellow tape was strung up like streamers and the yell of sirens played like party music. All the colors and noises starting to blur.

He was laid out on the bed in the main compartment. The doors shut and emptiness surrounded him. The world was cool. Filled with the gray of metal and the low rumble of an engine humming. Isolated. Derek felt the slump of his shoulders for the first time. The heaviness of the bags under his eyes and the ache in his back.

"You should lay down." The woman with a warm smile said. He hadn't even noticed her with him in the compartment. "We will be at the hospital soon."

\--------------------------------------------------TW------------------------------------------------------------

The steady pacing of soft beeps woke him up. Well that and the loud revving engine that was interlaced in there. The noises wormed their way into Derek's brain, make themselves at home in the fog laced dreams. As the sound ebbed in and out, Derek tried to count the beats. However he quickly lost count, unable to even honestly say if those beats even happened or not. Everything blurred together, to the point where Derek was sure he wouldn't remember any of it when he opened his eyes. Usually it is a comfortable place, a space where time seems to stop. A place where you are fully relaxed but able to fully enjoy it, knowing you're on the cusp of rest. However, the beeping would not stop, it ticked on as if advising Derek against sleep. Making his heart race with the fear of what lay in the fog.

An reviving noise washed out the beeps, as Derek's bed started to shift his weight. Pushing him slowly right to left, as some sort of broken rock a bye baby. His body felt numb, dislocated from his head and floating in the subspace. He concentrated hard on an appendage, his knee and pinky finger and right foot, but as his feeling returns to said area it washes out of the rest. Leaving him feeling like nothing more than a head or a pinky laying in a broken cradle.

His brain slowly cycled through his thoughts. Broken baby cradle. Boyd and Erica gonna have a baby? Boyd ask Erica to bond yet? He promised to let me know at the bar. Good bar for de-stressing. Dump. Other bar is better. Hope the others liked it. The others! With a jolt, Derek's brain kick started. Everything became real again. He could feel his body, the moving bed, the cold and the spell of sanitizer. Derek opened his eyes, blinded by the bright contrast of white wall against the black of his eye lids. Across from him was a board tacked to the wall. A white board filled out in bubble letters with the name of the nurses and a pain chart with little faces beside each of the ten numbers. Right underneath that was a list of notes, where bold letters spelled out tenuous booster.

Above that was a black tv, reflecting the room and it's single occupant back to him. Even in through the tinted surface, Derek could tell his skin had a pale sickly pallor to it. He was alone. Turning his head, he searched the myriad of buttons embedded in the bed frame. Finding the tiny red button with a white cross, he pushed it, hoping that it signaled the nurses. He needed to talk to someone. To know what was going on. Know where the others where.

While he waited he took stock if the rest of him. Wrapped tightly around his wrist was a pale blue cast. Large and bulky, it's colored emphasising his already chalky look. Wiggling his fingers, a small shock of pain travelled up his arm. His hand would be useless for a while it seemed, luckily it wasn't his dominant hand. Equally, there felt to be a similar bulk attached to his left foot. In the corner was a wheel chair and a standard cane. Clearly the nurses were prepared for him being unable to walk alone.

The door gently clicked open and a petite woman walked in. She had a warm smile and tired eyes.

"Good morning. How are you feeling Mr. Hale?" She asked nicely, with a gentleness usually reserved for the elderly and children.

"Like crap." He grumbled, his voice was sore and it made it even more gruff than normally.

"Understandable. Well, My name is Stephanie and I am your nurse for the next few hours. It will be my job to fix you right up, at your beck and call my fine sir" She said, I flourish of her hand to emphasis her attempt at humor. He just nodded. "Now, I have to ask you some questions, real quick. That okay?"

"Fine, but I need to ask some too."

"Okay. So these will be rather silly questions but just humor me on this. First, what is your name?"

"Derek Hale."

"Good. Do you know what the date is?"

"I don't know what day it is." He answered, off to the side was a big window. Outside was dark, dark blues smattered with warm yellows. It was night.

"Do you know where you are?" She pressed on, making no comment on the missing memory.

"The hospital."

"Okay. Very good. On a scale how is your pain? One being no pain at all and ten being the worst pain in your life.”

“8.”

“Alright, well I will look into your painkillers prescriptions. Give me one moment.” She said, starting to rapidly write down notes onto a clipboard. He had no idea what she had to write but I was far more than what he actually said to the young nurse. “That's it for my questions. Thank you. Now what would you like to know?" Though the look on her face seemed to say she already knew.

"Where are they?"

“Who?”

“Scott. Stiles. Lydia. Issac. Where are they?”

"The I.C.U. They all sustained significant injuries. And due to the... nature of your events, they have some tighter security."

"How long have I been asleep."

"Almost 16 hours now."

" Does my family..."

"Your family has been notified about your state. Your sister has been here since you arrived, I believe she went home to change and will be back." Stephanie stated, pointing over to the small couch under the window. Draped across it was a Rumpled blanket and a small purse was wedged into the corner.

"How long will I be here?" He asked, staring at the purse. Laura never left her purse anywhere, she only became forgetful when under stress. Something, he had seen very little of in his sister life. Her high tolerance for stress made the rare moments a shock and a clear sign of major problems.

"That's unclear, but it should be soon. Im sure you want to get better as soon as I do. You have a broken wrist, fractured ankle and a puncture on your stomach. All very manageable and not requiring hospital care. However, you have a significant burn on your chest, 3rd and 4th degree." Her brows creased at that detail. She politely gestured to ask to examine the area. Pushing the shoulder of his starchy gown down a large quake bandage peeked out. Tinted pink underneath the long stripes of tape keepin it to his chest.

Using a delicate touch, Stephaine peeled back the tape and slowly removed the gauze. Black. A large black and red scar was dug into his skin. His chest went from pale white to inraged red over his peck. The circular design looked old, like a coin dig out of an art history book. A sun and chain links flanked the upper and lower halves of a wolf. It's snarling face blacked by the charred skin.  

Stephaine made soft humming sounds as she tilted and twisted to get a clearer look of the raising skin. Crabbing a pair of latex gloves from a box on the wall, she moved in even closer. The soft fingers the started to edge around the skin. Even the lightest brush against the pink ended skin made Derek's chest ache. It felt like it was on fire all over again. The nurse examined her glove, though why Derek wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"We are going to have to clean your wound again." She informed, a small scowl marrying her lips. "Not going to lie to you, Hun, it's going to hurt."

"How much?" He asked, a nurse flinching meant certain pain.

"A bit. We have to use a high powered jet to 'scrub' out the dead and infected skin. I will have contact the doctor in the burn ward so we can..."

Suddenly the door flung open, banging loudly against the wall, as a flurry of a woman ran in. She was short stature with curled hair falling out of a once tight bun. He eyes looked near crazed as she pen Derek with a desperate stare.

"Derek? Are you Derek?" She asked, voice edges with stress and sorrow. Underneath it all was a demand, tell her now or suffer the consequences. Just a force coming from this disheveled woman, made Derek question himself for a moment. He began to nod as stephanie spoke up.

"Melissa, what are you doing here?" She asked clearly bothered by the strained look on the other woman. Melissa was in wrinkled scrubs and hair was a mess, too haphazard to be just a tired nurse. This woman had been pulling at her hair.

"You are Derek!" She asked again, ignoring Stephanie's question. Derek nodded again, unsure what else to say to this woman.

"Melissa, you shouldn't be here..."

"Derek. I am Scott's mother." She spoke over the other nurse. Derek felt the color drain from his face. "Scott's been asking for you. For hours he's been asking for you. I kept telling him later. Later and then he just.... Just...."

"Melissa, calm down. What's wrong?" Stephanie came close to her, laying a hand in Melissa's shoulders trying to steady her.

"He won't stop screaming."

"What?"

"He went to sleep but suddenly he just started scream. He keeps saying your name and He won't wake up. I don't know what to do. The doctors can't get him up. Please Derek.

"I don't think that's wise..." Derek threw back the covers and was in his feet. He felts his knees start to give but balanced against the side of the bed.

"Show me where to go." He demanded already trying to walk, but with great strain. Stephanie grabbed his elbow, with a stern look in her eyes and a tight line across her lips.

"I don't approve, if anyone asked, but I can't have you hobble around. Take this." She said placing a metal cane in his hands. It was older, well used, with a few dents in the neck. It was sturdy however, lightweight but strong. Derek leaned into it, relieving the pain in his ankle. Melissa was out the door and headed down the hallway, checking every few steps to see if he was still following.

Derek fell into a steady pace, the metallic clank of the cane giving him a beat to step too. The hallway was quiet, not quite silent with the nurses buzzing around the heart monitors beeping, but there was a hush. Each room passed seemed to give off a different aura. The loud movie from 434 was a stark contrast from the deathly silent neighbor, 435. The sound of muffled words of support, laughs of friends and tears seeped out from under closed doors.

The worried mother made a sharp right, headed through some personnel only doors. Derek faulted before being waved in by Melissa, stumbling slightly while trying to hobble by while she proped open the door. Equipment and unused beds lined the walls and shelves were stocked with buckets, rags, needles, and a myriad of tools that Derek rather not know their purposes. Down the brightly lit hall was another pair of double doors, opening up to god knows where. As the door grew, as they neared, Melissa's pace began to slow. Derek, even with his stumbling cane, quickly fell into pace with her. Soon she stopped all together.

Her face was no longer nervous and frazzled. Now in it's place was a stern grimace that would make any naughty child think twice. Her posture had changed making Derek question his initial assumption about her wispy weight. Her hands were balled into fish, from which one long finger came out to jab him in the chest. Dangerously close to his burn. He took one small step back to avoid the index, only to have it follow him and shift that much closer to his blackened skin. The bandage was hanging off by one small strand of tape, exposing the skin to the sterile air. He should probably recover it with the bloody bandage but he was too worried about what would happen if he moved.

He was stupid. He shouldn't have followed her. He had no proof that she was who she claimed to be. Now he was in a strange hall, closed off from others, with a random woman. He was crippled and even if he was there wasn't a guarantee he was safe. Kate proved that much. He felt his back press against the wall. His heart started to raised, ready to burst from his chest and spear itself on this tiny woman's finger. The edges of his vision started to blur has his chest heaved, digging her finger into his tender skin.

"You were there?" She demanded in a harsh tone. Derek said nothing and did even less. "Yes or no." Still nothing.

He couldn't say anything. The words wouldn't form and a lock clamped down on his throat. His nose started to burn as he heaved through it, to afraid to open his mouth. She was close, too close. Against that wall all direct felt was out of control. A slave to his feelings but unable to to control it. a exposed nerve, forced to feel anything. He just stared at her, trying to beg with his look alone.

With a harsh huff, Melissa's eyes lowered from Derek's pale face, instead finding interest in his falling bandage. The same jabbing finger pinched the ends if the soiled rag. Derek felt his body hitch, jerking in it's own as if making an executive decision that Derek's brain didn't know what was best. He was tempted to agree with his body. A fog of kindness seeped into the nurse's eyes as she thumbed at the unraveling edges.

"It's not a lie, you know. Well, the screaming, that was complete lie, but can you blame me? I needed a good enough reason to see you." Nimble fingers started to peel away the rest if the tape, gently, without the itch of pain, she managed to remove it completely. Turning on her heels, Melissa started to dig through several of the bins in the shelves walls. "Him saying your name wasn't a lie though. It's quiet, but it's there. Mostly when he sleeps. He has been asleep the majority of the time so that pretty often."

She returned, back into his bubble, with fresh bandages and tape. His back the flattened against the wall as he stared at her working. He contemplated swinging his cast at her, weighing if the further damage was worth it and if he would even get away. Between the burn, cane and casts he doubted his abilities. The burn cream was chilling and the bandage slightly itched as it was reapplied.

"Now I ask again. Were you there? Yes or no." She recited, still stern but with a tilt of care in the edges. Like a mother trying to egg on a small child to come out from behind her legs. The tone made him feel small. Made him want to do what she said just so she would bestow her motherly love upon him. All little kids must feel like this with his mothers. He only wished he could remember his own.

He gave a small nod and something caught Melissa's attention. Maybe it was the angle of his head or the shake in his body or in the thin line of water collecting at his lashes. Whatever it was though, the shorter woman took it upon herself to act. Standing on her toes, she placed a warm hand in his cheek, rubbing the stubble with her thumb. Derek started to lean into the small comfort. Laura use to rub his cheek when they were little, when they played house and she was the mother, Derek the baby and Daddy would be the dog. The thought made him curl in on himself, Melissa was there to catch him. Throwing her arms around his shoulder and slotting his head between her neck.

For a moment they just stood there. Derek half exposed, plastered against a white washed wall and Melissa in days old scrubs humming a soft lullaby he had never heard. The moment could almost be classified as perfect, as long as you overlooked the dented cane, soiled bandages on the floor or the fact that neither of these people knew a single detail about the other. Though, that seem arbitrary when one is giving comfort.

The pressure behind Derek's closed eyes began to ease as his breathing leveled out. He felt her palms run up and down his spine, trying to heat up the muscles to relax. Using his good arm, he wrapped it around her slender shoulders. Gripping tightly to the coarse cotton fabric with his slightly shaking hand. Tears started to collect around his own shoulder as Melissa silently tears. How much did she know?

Soon their roles were reversed. Derek began to draw small symbols on her back. Searching desperately within them for something to say. There really wasn't much to be said though. So he stayed silent, and waited. As his shoulder grew more wet, his eyes started to dry. He started to randomly count groups of objects, number of shelves, lights in the hall and grays imbedded in the crying woman's brown hair. Right around number 43, Melissa's shoulders began to relax, pressing back against his hands to escape.

Once in her own space again, cheeks dried and the proverbial dust removed from her scrubs, the worried mother finally look Derek in his eyes.

"I am sorry."

"It's okay." He said offhandedly, the only phrase he could grasp.

"No, it's really not." She said with a look that implied it wasn't the crying she was talking about. It became difficult to look at each other after that, each finding interest in the blemishes of the hall. "Well you still come see him though?"

"Yes."

Scott's room was much like Derek's. White wash walls, loud beeping monitors and a tv with muted cartoons running in the background. Scott himself almost managed to blend in with the bland surroundings, wrapped up so tight in bandages. A tiny IV needle, protruding from his left arm, which he took much interest in picking and prodding. The door opened on quite hendges but the disturbance was enough to garner the bedridden boy.

"Derek."

"Hey Scott." He said, taking his time to walk to the chair next to the bed. Hospital was rich enough to provide a lazyboy esque chair for their 'guests'. The cane was already a damn nuisance. He propped it against the chair and braced himself. Slowly lowering himself down into the plush cushion. "How are you feeling?"

The look he got from both Melissa and Scott was almost comical. Honestly the similarities alone could be fun in any other situation. The matching set of incredulous eyes and head tilts made Derek temporarily question what Scott inherited from his father.

"Stupid question." He supplemented "just humor me."

"Cold. But I am here and so are you so it could be a lot worse." He said, so little inflection in the statement it was like a quiet complacency took over. Not acceptance, that wasn't welcomed yet. Probably never would be. "You?"

"I guess the same." Derek returned, a small smile instinctively raised. Those two simple corners rising drained his energy through, more than hobbling down the hall, and he had to quickly drop them again. The TV kept on playing joke after joke that no one laughed too. Scott was layed back into a pile of starched pillows. The most active part of him being his eyes that hopped between Derek and his mother.

Derek joined in as they watched Melissa make herself busy. Fiddling with charts, checking IVS, inspecting wires that connected them to their parasitic partners. Even with Derek being free of all but the Iv, he still could feel shadows of small cords tugging at his skin. He watched as Melissa's gers worked the machines and as scotts twitched at any loud cartoon antics. For kid friendly programming, 1960s cartoons had a lot of electrocution in it. As the perpetual cat and mouse game played out on screen, bandage rough fingers skimmed across his knuckles. With a simple twist if his wrist, he tangled his own with Scott's.

The bandages fingers were cold, borderline uncomfortable to hold, but Derek had no plans to let go. Soon Melissa run out of things to do and began to quiet down as well. As the cartoon shoehorned ending played the three occupants relaxed into the presence of one another. Outside the world seemed to slow, the sun started to rise. A green haze painted the air as a storm matched its way into town.


	5. Tenugui

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter is up lovelies. So this story has a lot of content that I want to sift through and will probably be a long story. However, I am always open for constructive critique so if you feel like it goes slow, that characters are not being done justice to who they are or anything else, feel free to email me. have a good day lovelies.

By the time Laura returned, Derek was feed, re-bandaged, walked back to his room, talked to the physical therapist and was laying down to rest. The sky was darkening outside as the clouds rolled in. The first patter of raindrops against the windows blended into the sound of the buzzing machines. the comforting sound cushing the way to clearing his mind for sleep. The door opened to a rushe whirlwind of haphazard curls, made worse by demi dry hair.

"Derek!" Was the exclamation that broke through his slowing mind. Minutes that felt like hours that felt like years of just waiting for his racing brain to run out of steam. It finally reached that realm of muddled illogicalness that coined the beginning to sleep. "Oh my god. Der, how are you doing?" She went on, throwing her stuff loudly to the floor and taking her seat in the lazy boy. That monster of tan pleather seemed to swallow her smaller body.

"Hay Lau-Lau." The words were a little harsh against his dry up throat but the endearment came across.

"You haven't called me that in years. Now I know you are in bad shape." A force laugh, leaked through. Her palms rubbed against the starched blanket, rolling over the folds like waves and gripping the back of his hand in hers. Her usually clean manicured nails were bitten down to the nub, little flecks of baby blue chipping off. Her thumb rubbed back and forth cross his veins, running warmth into the small muscles. Her eyes look heavy, a down tilt in the corners caused by the weight of tears.

"How's the shop?" A question mostly to distract from the more pressing ones about himself.

"It's fine. Been closed a few of the days when Erica can't man it. She said The Douglases came in again, throwing up a ruckus about some movie they saw. They claimed that the writers wouldn't know the difference between a bdsm playroom and an inquisition torture dungeon." Laura went on, small forced laugh coming up with the re-telling. Her smile fell suddenly and what replaced it was worried eyes and bitten lips.

The silence was only really broken when Derek's nurse, Stephanie, entered the room. The heavy click of an unlocking door announcing the intrusion.

"I came to check up on you. How are you feeling?" Derek just gave a tired smile as if that was a medically sound diagnosis. She returned it, in so sudo acceptance? Before getting to work. Checking the damage done to the strained Iv and his arm on the trek over. An angry red dot marked the perpetual place for the small plastic inserted to his arm. Imbedded in such a way that it nearly guaranteed an annoying ache from every conceivable position. Laura and Stephanie chated politely about the day, if the nurse’s small children were well and what the plans for the coming weekend were.

"How are the others doing?" He asked, awkwardly interrupting their small talk.

"I believe they are all stable and comfortable. Not going to lie, I already tried asking their nurses but patient confidentiality exists for a reason." She replied, unhooking the tubing from his Iv and pocketing the empty bag. "Now, you should be fine without the Iv, but if you show signs of dehydration or body temperature drops we will set it back up." With one final question of getting him anything. She swept out of the room as fast as she swanned in.

The afternoon dissolved into light conversations and half interesting daytime documentaries. The pleasant lull of Laura's voice and Ken Burns’ buffered Derek's way in and out of sleep. His time being unconscious only marked by the decades that passed by on the tv. Food came and went and before Derek knew it, Laura was settling down to sleep.

"Are you going to the shop tomorrow?" He asked, no longer tired and trying to find an excuse to keep her up as well.

"No, Erica is suppose to be working."

"Oh... Is she going to come?"

"I haven't told anyone about what's happened, Der. She doesn't know." That was probably for the best, explaining his situation would be... Difficult at best. Though the thought if not being visited by family and friends seemed almost worse. "Would you like me to have her come?"

"Yes, just... Just don't tell her why I'm here."

"Okay." She replied, stretching out her arm to grab the railing of his bed. He gripped her hand in his, twinning the fingers. Starting to stretch his arm out, being careful of the Iv needle shifting, to create a bridge with their arms. Her palm was warm, a little wet, from the cup of coffee she had been nursing all day. They both rested back, trying to just enjoy the company of another person. Soon the comfort of human contact made Derek’s eyes droop again. The loud ravings to a televangelist trying to protect his flock from hell buffed his own dreams of a personal one.

\--------------------------------------------------TW----------------------------------------------------------

As the sun started to reach its peak in the sky, a knock came from the door. The noise rang in his head and clattered around in his brain. opening his heavy eyes the first thing he saw was Laura, her head drooped uncomfortably low to be cushioned on her shoulder. her eyes opened up quickly and her shoulders seized up.Dropping his hand, Laura got up and checked to see who it was.

"Hello Mrs. Hale? I am Deputy Tara Graeme” A voice came out through the cracked door. The bright hallway lights flooding through slightly darkened room. Grumbling slightly, Derek pressed his eyelid tighter, forcing as much darkness as possible.“and this is my partner, Deputy..."

"Parrish?"

"Laura?"

"What are you doing here?" His sister asked Parrish, ignoring the grumble coming from Graeme.

"Yes, well this is Parrish, seems like you already know each other. We are here on behalf of the Sheriff’s department to discuss what happened. We need to ask Derek a few questions.” Laura checked over her shoulder to find Derek with his eyes open, staring at the wall.

“Der, you okay with this?” He just nodded back. It would have to happen sooner or later. Accepting his response, Laura opened the door for the two deputies. Parrish walked in, looking more tired than last time, behind the imposing presence of a smaller woman.

“Hello Derek.” He greeted, offering up a tired smile.

“Hi.”

“Hello Mr. Hale. As you probably heard, I am Deputy Tara Graeme and this is my Partner, Jordan Parrish. Like I said we are here to ask you a few questions.”

"Shouldn't the sheriff being doing any major investigations on a case?" Laura asked.   
"Yes, however he is busy." Was the curt response, quickly the small scowl was replaced by a look warm smile and encouraging stance. It was like seeing the Beast at Disney world, he is there arm open ready for a hug, but he is so big that you still find yourself backing away. The small woman pulled open her thick officer jacket and fished out a small battered notepad and small nub of a pencil. "How are you feeling today Derek?"

"Fine." He said as Laura's hands return, pushing warmth into his palms.

"Can you tell me about the night of December 12?" Just like that, not warning up, non sugar coating just honest truth. They wanted the honest truth in return. The palm in his hand was sweltering, clenching tight. The wall became interesting all of sudden. Across the white walls became a dancing muddle scenes of booze, bodies and blood.

"I agreed to meet them at a bar. It was going to be the 6 of us and we wanted to all meet in a public place. You know to be... Safe." A humorless laugh pushed through his gut. "When we all got there, there were only 5 of us."

"Who was missing?"

"...Kate." A barely there whisper that everyone still seemed to hear. "Isaac said that ka.... She was going to get our room ready and he would lead is there."

"Did you just leave right away?"

"No, we sat around and had a few drinks. Talked."

"Did you all buy your own drinks?"

"No, at some point Isaac got us something to drink. I.... I can't remember... I don't remember anything after that." The gripped tightened, a zip tie effect ready to pop of his fingers. He started to feel himself breathe, feel the brushes of air down his lungs and back if his throat. It was a pressure he wish to ignore but knew was deeply needed. The walls became blank, an ache formed behind his eyes as he forced his memory to obey. He pushed and pushed to visualize the night, nothing formed. It was nothing more than a muddy pile of dark shapes and half formed sounds. The air forced it's way down his throat harder, he tried to keep it out but it forced it's way in. The wall was blank nothing but horrible white, his mind was blank, nothing left but a burning ache in the lungs and a splitting crack in his mind. Everything started to speed up, trying to force itself into his attention. The split spread. The ache grew. The wall laughed at him, taunting him with it's empty arms.

"Derek! Derek!" The zip tie let loose and a strap helmet took it's place. Molded right against his face. The heat once in them felt freezing, pressed against his wet brow. Laura was there though. Her hand were there, her eyes, her help. Her hands were bracing his face, making him stare her in her warm eyes.

"Why don't I remember?" He asked her. Her eyes were about as blank as the wall but thankfully not that mocking white.

"We are waiting for some test to come back but your doctor said it's likely because of something you drank." Parrish stated, as much empathy passing through his voice as he stated a grim truth.

"You don't remember anything after that?" Graeme continued to question, voiced softened to a dull lit.

"I can't.... Just getting into the car and some fuzzy images of the motel. All I remember clearly is being in the bar than waking up in the motel room."

"What happened when you woke up?"

"I saw what happened. Everyone was hurt, they looked dead. Are they alright? Please tell me." He asked, watching as the two deputies shared a look.

"They are fine."

"What happened after?"

"I.... I managed to get myself free and I called 911."

"Where was Kate when you woke up?"

"She was pouring something down Isaac’s throat."

"She has some pretty nasty bruises on her. You know how that happened?"

"That bitch deserves death." Laura spit out, an angry flair catching in her breath.

"When I got free... We fought." Warm hands were back in his this time with an encouraging

"Would you be able to pick out your assailant in a line up?"

"Is that even necessary?" Laura asked, angry still clear in her voice. He had heard that voice only once. When a foolish man dared to insult her mate. The fool would have been ten feet under if bit for the grace of Hailey.

"It is to cover our bases," Parrish said with a calmness. "There is no doubt about the guilt of the parties involved, better safe than sorry though." That answer seemed to nullify the growing edge in Laura's presence. Derek only gave a nod, that was the easy part and all he cared to give anymore.

"Have you ever met these people in person before." No.

"Did you know any of them prior, over the internet, through a friend?" No.

"Where did you set up this meet up at the bar?" No answer.

"An internet website. I signed him up for it." Laura interjected. Saving him from having to say anything.

"Would you be willing to hand over your internet account?" Yes.

"One last question. Would you be willing to submit to a rape kit?" Yes. Why not. What's one more invasion in his privacy at this point. With that the officers could tell they were not wanted much longer. Graeme returned her pad of notes to her jacket with a small thanks and a promise to be back. Parrish followed behind, with a small smile to Laura, and a guarantee to return before the end of the week.

The sun was fat in the sky, Having hit its high point and readying it's decent back down. Lunch came and went and after a rather awkward argument about his capability to go to the restroom alone, a peaceful lull filled the room. The day was filled with naps and small conversations until the ringer of Laura's phone went off. Fishing it from her pocket she thumbed through the message.

"Erica just closed shop. Would you like her to visit?" With a nod, Laura write out an affirmative message and sending it on it's way. The shop was half way across town so it would be sometime before the blonde appeared. They fell back into silence and waited, at least until the hospital door whipped open. A rush of rusty blonde blinds him as a pressure lands on his side.

"Lydia?" He pushed the curls out of his eyes and mouth only to see the top of the head it was attached too. A pair of arms wrapped around his chest, squeezing against his burn. "Ouch. Ouch, Lydia, please let go."

Quickly the arms let go and she sat up to stare at him. Her face was pale, clean of any makeup yet her lips and flushed cheeks were still bright against her white skin. There were subtle purples under her eyes, only offset by the bright unnatural purple and blue line against her neck. It was an angry harsh line that even darkened around the rough ridges of the ropes cording.

"How's your neck?" He gently brushed his wide fingers across the bruises edges, watching how the tender flesh shift colors under the most gentle of touches. She gently nodded her head then began shifting to and fro, looking for something. The information clipboard was left on the sanitizing sink counter. Rising quickly, Lydia grabbed the board and returned back to the bedside at an even faster pace. She looked around again, brows scrunching together when she seemed to not find anything. Using her pointer and thumb, she pinched them together and dragged them across the board as if filling out the form.

“You need a pen?” Derek asked, watching the chipped nails scrabble across the papers. A bright smile crossed her lips and she nodded yes, her soft curls bobbing in the movement. How her hair still looked fabulous must of been a great cosmic secret.

“Here, I have one.” Laura started, digging through her purse. A soft smile crossed Laura’s lips as she gently passed the pen over to Lydia. A tight lipped nod was all the thanks that she received before Lydia bent into the board.

**Thank you. I am not allowed to talk and have been forced to communicate through writing. My neck is fine, I am suffering from minor generalized hypoxia due to prolonged asphyxiation but luckily all of my limbs and organs seems to be fine, minus some mild tremors in my hands due to stress.**

“I am glad everything is okay.” He said, brushing a few hairs out of her tired eyes. She pushed it aside with a huff, fixing it herself. Laura gave a soft snort before standing up.

“Im going to get something to eat from the cafeteria. Have them call me if you need me.”

“Take your time.” Another snort. The door closed with a click and the soft drawl of some documentary played in the background. The two of them sat there, staring at each other. Not an uncomfortable stare though, it was one you give to a friend or family member as they are in the throw of laugher. I  those moments you realise you are really seeing them for the first time in a while. you become obsessed in those moments to memorize the exact details of their face, to later be stored away. The kind that makes you feel warm to just watch and absorb their joy.

The moment ends when something the narrator, prattling on about god knows what, says something that catches her attention. Twisting around sharply she seems to glare at the tv as if it offended her. Even when perturbed she manages to swish her soft curls in the most delicate way. As she glared at the screen she slowly started to sink down into his side. Plastering her back and hip against his shoulder. Curling in, she bent her legs, creating a diagonal plane to scribble out her message on the board. Fancy scrawl flowed out from the pen nib as she scratched away.

**This guy doesn’t even know the basics of black holes. They were predicted by Einstein but he wasn’t the first. The original idea was proposed as early as 1783 by the amateur British astronomer John Michell. This show would know that is they did just basic research.**

"Really? You studying space science in college?" Most of the concepts on this show went way over Derek's pay grade.

**No. I am interested in all sciences though. You?**

“Gender studies.”

**So you are all about feminism and the debate about Switch status?**

somehow even with a pen there was a sense of know it in her wording that made him snort.

“Yes, that’s pretty much what I pay to go to college for. To spend all day thinking about how to reclaim the night.”

The documentary rolled on while they just say there. Enjoying the company and warmth if another and the occasional sarcastic writings from Lydia on the faults of the logic. Even on the page you could feel the massive amount of intellect her small frame held. the documentary continued its discussion on the science of space with amusing diagrams, illustrations and visual metaphors. At one point a bonded pair were compared to a quasar or some other complex science idea.

"How are you feeling" he asked, taking note of the slight sag in her shoulders and the faint bags under her eyes. Even though her hair still had its curls it was slightly matted. her tired eyes met his, her lips flattened out and that small twitch in her eyes took place, the kind that tells you the person is debating with themselves. Once her mini debate seemed to have been settled she started to write down her message.

**Fine. I feel better when I'm near you.**

Derek smiled at the that and raised his arm to slot her in closer. His shoulder gave a minimal groan in pain but far less than when he was alone. Warmth was shared in their space and a happy haze formed behind his eyes. Even Lydia seemed to melt, dropping the board not her out stretched lap. The haze deepened, much like the hospitals pain pills did towards the end of each night. Though he couldn’t remember the last time he took one. Her curls brushed against his collarbone as her slight strained breathing danced across the side of his face. A loud knock came from the door, though the door was opened before he could give permission

"Derek. We got here as.... Oh, hello." Erica rushed in, her heeled boots clicking against the tiled floor. Boyd followed close behind, saddled down with a large duffle bag. They both looked tired, standing at the foot of the bed staring at the two occupants. Tension recollected around Lydias shoulders and the warm feeling started to seep away. He gripped her elbow softly to assure her she could stay.

"Guys this is Lydia. Lydia this are my friends Erica and Boyd." Boyd gave a small smile and a short nod, his eyes glued to the harsh line across her neck. Shaking off their stares Lydia hoped up to shake hands, a polite smile on her lips.

“Very nice to meet you Lydia.” Erica commented, returning the handshake. “How do you know our Derek?”

“She’s a friend I made when getting here.” He scrambled to say, almost glad that the strawberry blonde could not answer without the aid of paper. She gave him an odd look before shrugging her shoulders and retaking her place beside him. In one graceful movement she was back under his arm and by his side. Pulling out the board again she prepared to write her own answers.

**Yes, Derek and I met each other here, he has been very kind to me.**

“That is good, I’d have to have a talking with him if he wasn’t.” Erica said with a sultry smirk. “You tell me if he does.”

“Thanks Erica. You are such a great promoter of my character.”

“Anything for you Der Bear.” A loud snort came from his side.

**Der Bear?**

“A childhood nickname that I never should have told certain people.” He said sending a glare to both of them. Erica maybe the one who makes fun of him for it, but she would have never known that name if Boyd could keep his mouth shut around her. The guy can be a silent wall except when you need him to be. “Are you done humiliating me around new friends?”

“Oh Der you know I am never done humiliating you.” Erica smoozed, sliding into the seat Laura vacated.

“Have you guys seen Laura?”

“Yeah she is in the lobby talking with some cop. We actually brought some stuff for the two of you to make the stay more comfortable.”

“Thank you. How are you guys doing?”

“We should be asking you that.” Boyd finally spoke, placing the duffle on the couch.

“Fine.” Derek replied, a light tap on his ribs grabbing his attention. Lydia was holding up her board and pointed to a small excerpt.

**I probably need to go back to my room. My mom will be worried if she returns and I am not there.**

“Okay, let me walk you back then.’ He offered, already throwing back the covers to get up. A process that was made much easier now that the nurses deemed it safe to take him off the constant IV drips. Though the damnable needle was meant to stay in his arm just in case. He picked up the cane from beside the bed and started his hobble down the hall, Lydia leading the way. A couple of nurses gave odd looks to them as they passed their stations ,but when back to work as soon as they passed. The look of pure determination and her right to be there coming from Lydia seeming to prevent any of them from interferences. Two station down almost at the opposite end of the hall was her room. With a gentle turn of the knob she opened the door to a silent room.

“There you are!” Well the silence didn’t last that long. “Where have you been?” In a rush of red, very reminiscent of Lydia, a stern looking woman stared them down. She was the type of beauty that could be delicate in joy and severe in power. The kind of face  you would see in the shop, one who would giggle and flirt with her husband on the first visit and within a month be loading up her bag with all kinds of whips, cuffs and leather corsets. She stared them down before pulling out a small notebook and pen, handing it to Lydia. She settled down on the bed before taking the time to answer the older woman’s questions. Derek stood there watching the interaction between them, almost pressed up against the wall by the imposing presence of this new woman.

**I just went for a walk mom.**

“With him?” Her mother demanded, thrusting a friend in Dereks direction. “Who is he.”

**His name is Derek, mom. Yes, I went to visit him. He is my friend.**

“Were you there?” Derek jerked to attention, standing straight, well as straight as he could with his hobbling cane.

“I.... Uh.... I”

“Were you there? Were you at this ‘party’ the police were asking my daughter about?”

“I... yes Ma’am.” He answered softly, immediately dropping his eyes down to stare at her shoes. They were finely polished work pumps, well treated and loved.

“Did he hurt you?” She asked to Lydia, but her eyes were pinning Derek in his place. He felt the blood rush from his face, leaving him light headed and cold. He only prayed that this fierce woman wouldn't notice his bodily reaction to guilt.

**No Mom!**

“You, do you remember that night any better than my daughter does?”

“No, Ma’m.”

“How old are you?”

“27”

“Alright listen here, I don’t know how you know my daughter and I dont know how you are involved in this whole mess, but if you ever come near her again I will make your life a lot harder than it already is.” A distressed groan came from the bed as Lydia shifted to stand up. “

Lydia rushed between them, pressing her front against his side, wrapping her arms around his torso. She had a fierce glare match and the actions made her mother’s finely trimmed eyebrows rise.

“Lydia, you need rest. Go back to bed.” the red head gave a quick shake of her head, tightening her grip. “Lydia, I do not want you near this man.”

“No, mom!” A scratched up voice came out of her. It was weak and hit a pitch that made you spine stiffen in pain. “Derek didn’t hurt...me. He never would.”

“You don’t even know this man. He most certainly hurt you. He probably already has.”

“No.... He wouldn’t... ever.”

“Lydia Martin! Let go of this man, he is almost 10 years older than you and reeks of Dominance. So help me, you may have just become legal but I will have charge him of statutory Rape.”

“He didn’t... and wouldn’t rape me!”

“And how would you know that!?”

“He’s my Bondmate!”

The loud clap of flesh against flesh was delayed to the fire on his cheek. His right was on fire, while the left was pressed against the cool wall. across his untrimmed cheek was an angry red palm print. Adding to the decoration on his body.

  
  



	6. Kazushi

He's my Bondmate! He's my Bondmate! He's my Bondmate! Bond. Mate. Played out in his head like a broken laugh track in a horribly unfunny sitcom. How he wished the crowd would boo and put an end to this black comedy. As soon as Mrs. Martin had delivered her open-palmed blow to his face, the smaller Martin had rushed to press herself against his front. Trying to spread out her small frame as a barrier from her seething mother. He started to sag against the wall as the two women faced off. One yelling out her rage, the other returning with choked croaks of a ruined throat. A horrid sound that made you want to clear your own throat in sympathy.

"How could you possibly think this scum is your mate!?" "I know.... I do. I can feel it" God her voice sounded terrible. "That's the morphine talking. You know nothing about him. You met him at a goddamn sex party. He probably helped brutalize you!" Her mother yelled, waking the whole ward, turning her hateful eyes upon him. "That's it isn't it! You saw the opportunity and forced her to mate with you! Some sick Dom who takes what he wants!" With each exclamation, she made to move forward only to press up against her daughter. Glaring over her shoulder into his worried eyes. As her mother pressed closer, Lydia pressed back, cornering Derek to the wall. Stifling his ability to exit or breathe. Panicked he searched for an escape. A series of buttons lined the wall, one surely lead to the nurses' station. 

"Lydia, I will not repeat myself again. Step away from that sick bastard." He made a reach for the buttons. Lydia stood her ground, shaking her head and shoving her mother back. His finger brushed against the console, pushing them all in just as her mothers finally wrapped a hand around his wrist. With a forceful yank and a twinge to his already damaged shoulder, Derek was tugged off balance, crashing the ground. The floor was there to meet him but provided little comfort as his jaw made contact. A screech, like a record skipping, came from Lydia as she followed him down. The clatter of his cane against the linoleum filled the small single hospital room. 

Mrs. Martin loomed over as the door opened to a handful of orderlies trying to regain control of the room. “What is going on in here.” the male orderly demanded to know. All the colors were there, they were just a little blurry. His temple ached and the yells from Lydia’s mother did little to temper the pain. “I want this man removed from my daughter’s room.” Colors became a muddy mix that caked his senses and felt like a growing crust on his brain. Gentle fingers brushed along his face, they traveled down to his torso and urged him to sit up. Slowly he was erected to a seated position against the wall. 

“Ma’am please calm down, you are disturbing other patients.” A woman's voice, with all the command and fatigue of a well-seasoned nurse, joined in the chaos. “Let her go!” Lydia’s body pressed in closer, her nose shoved beside his throat, every bob of his Adam's apple bumping against the bridge of her nose. Derek’s knees start to shake, giving angry twitches of pain as if ready to pop out of the socket. The drywall light scrapped his bare back under the hospitals gown as he heaved in heavy breathes. Lydia took a single finger tucking his cheek to the top of her head. Her hair smelled of discount bulk shampoo, peppermint so strong it lodged itself in his nose. His skull tightened but slowly he became deafer to the world. Letting the sent overtake him.  It would be anything but comforting if not for the fact that comes from the petite redhead.

“Mrs. Martin, that is quite enough.” A booming command came from the hall, sending a shiver down Derek’s spine. Lydia shook beside him, tucking her knees in, migrating to sit in his lap. He welcomed the warm weight of her against his front. The command achieves its goal throwing Mrs. Martin off her bearings, bringing her thundering shouts to silence. "I may have some answers.”  A refined man strolled in, all calm confidence and mild disinterest that did not seem appropriate considering. His lab coat was pinned with a tag labeled ALAN DEATON ph.D.

"Finally! Doctor please, I just want this man out of my sights and away from my daughter" Mrs. Martin went on, all of a sudden the picture of calm elegance. A male nurse had his large hand dangerously tight across her biceps. The doctor seemed unfazed by her emotional shift, more interested in shining a bright light in Derek's eyes. The world became beautifully blank as the light shined through, faint red shadows of vain bordering his vision. “Hello, I am Dr. Deaton,” he went on talking. As the light faded his controlled smile took up the foreground of Derek's vision. “I will be your new case doctor."

A few gentle yet forceful shoves here and there as he was set into the doctor's desired position with his head tilted back and eyes closed. Colors continued to dance in his vision as he felt the blood rush from his temples. Warmth pressed against his shoulders from Lydia’s resting head. With a slow and delicate lift she places his casted arm around her shoulder, with a deep sigh she relaxed. All this sent her mother into another row. “You bastard! You brainwashed her, haven't you! I want him thrown out, he is the root of this problem and is in the way of my daughter’s recovery. I want him out!” Deaton stood up, aiding the blockade made between the injured youths and enraged tiger mom. He took the verbal yelling with almost no reaction, letting Mrs. Martin expel all air from her lungs. 

As his temples stopped pulsing, the noise became pointlessly mute Derek's aching head; so he let the others handle the raging bull. The conversation seems to go on for some time,  barely controlled shouts on Mrs. Martin's part and calm responses from Deaton. Nothing that was said though seemed to calm the older woman. Talk about delicate healthy prompted shouts about harm at his hands. Mention of mental health and healing was shot down with derision to a man like that could help her daughter. The comment about bonding traits devolved at the mention of her age making her too young to truly know. On and on it went, a mental volley that Derek was too exhausted to watch, but from the subtle shifts at his shoulder, it seems Lydia was getting an eyeful. At least until a heavy set of footfall joined the commotion.

“Mrs. Martin, the hospital officials have asked you several times to stay calm. You are not the only people here and if you insist to carry on with disturbing the other patients I will have to escort you off the premises.” The voice was a potent mix of calming and demanding. It was the kind of voice that would make any Sub, Switch or even Dom fall to their knees in the hopes to please such a man. His presence was full of dominance but his stance and attitude spoke of nothing but home comfort. He was the kind of Dom movies loved to write about, one that could take charge but also made you feel safe. This presence seems to do the trick as Mrs. Martin finally took a step back and lower her voice.

"Sheriff Stilinski, thank you,” Deaton said in a conversational tone. “Now that we are all acquainted, who's interested in lunch, maybe a meal and some talking will set us right." If the gobsmacked look on the other Martin was anything to go by than lunch was definitely not the answer. Regaining composure quickly Mrs. Martin turned to the Sheriff and squared off with him. "I want this man arrested for forcing a bond on my daughter!" She demanded to point to Derek. Lydia quickly wrapped herself around him tighter shaking her head no. His chest ached as her bicep pressed down on it. 

"I am thinking sandwiches will do just fine, don't you Mr. Hale." The doctor went on to say as if the angry mother’s complaint was never stated. By the flush on her cheeks, you could tell Mrs. Martin didn't like being ignored. Lydia’s worried eyes blocked his view, inspecting him with her calculating look. She placed her slightly sweaty palm pressed against his bruising cheek. Her nails were chipped and ragged but comforting as she lightly scratched through his scruff. It was comforting, reminded him of when Laura use to brush his hair as a little kid and she insisted on braiding his hair. 

"Right, well, let's order some food to take to my office and then we can have a nice chat about...” "You're Derrick Hale?" The Sheriff interrupted, in that sort of way that made it clear that you should be scared if your answer was anything other than the affirmative. Gone was the quiet control and comfort of a silver screen star. His stance seemed menacing but if that was because of his posture or the extreme angles Derek had from sitting on the floor was hard to tell. His clothes were stale and rumpled that, combined with this 5 o'clock shadow, made it clear that he had not left the building in several days. 

"Yes, sir." He answered, reading into the unspoken demand for answers. They would all like answers at this point. A look crossed the man's face, one of disruptive mistrust and another of calculated confusion. Looking him up and down, he squared off his shoulders as if ready to fight. “Do you know Stiles?" It was a guarded question but one the man already seems to have the answers too. Still, the name made Derek's heart kick start again, begging for attention as the pace sped up. 

"Stiles!? Yes, I do! Is he alright?" Derrick asks trying to move closer as if making the man see his desperate eyes better would make him more agreeable. Lydia’s head even popped up, her eyes conveying what her bruised throat wouldn't allow. She is scared, scared for his safety, scared for her own, scared that this nightmare had eternal consequences. Stiles better be okay or there would be hell to pay, Derek would promise that. Their reactions seemed to throw the man's resolve off as he took a step back. The room stayed silent, all the occupants waiting, praying, that the answer was a positive one. "My son is fine... Barely." The tone felt like snow dribbling down the back of his shirt. Derek refused to look him in the eye, for fear of what a father might do to him if a mother had already attacked him. The Sheriff stood his ground but the tension in his shoulder dropped. "Stiles. He has been asking to see you, I guess it’s as good of a time as ever to meet this Derek he keeps demanding to see."

\--------------------------------------------------TW----------------------------------------------------------

The room was a mess, the usual order of a hospital was clouded by the haphazard state of the rooms key assets. The starched sheets were spilling over the mattress, even exposing the yellowed mattress cover that needed a deeper cleaning. The curtains were skewed letting a thin line of light leaking in around the edges. Napkins covered in scratchy writing were dotting the floors and scotched taped to the headboard. Most were written clearly in ink but several looked as if they were made in anything the writer could grab, ketchup, sharpies, and other odd substances. Food only a third eaten was left on its tray under a mountain of used napkins, the corners slowly absorbing the contents of a partially empty juice cup. Tucked in the nest of napkins, sheets, and bedding was Stiles, his hospital smock missing as he laid on his belly, his raw back bandaged but in need of a redressing soon. The pale skin that was on display was dotted with moles the color of burnt oak. However, while only a few days ago they Derek had desperately wanted to connect the dots, preferably with his tongue or light nail scratches. Now there were angry red slashes cut across his back doing it for him. Those that peek out of the bandage edges where mostly an inflamed red that would be concerning, if not for the yellowed ones that were sprinkled in between. They were just slightly tinted a foul color to allude to an infection. 

His hair was slightly mated, never getting quite as clean with a sponge bath as it would be a traditional one. It still managed to stick up at all kinds of odd angles. The blanket, dangerously close to exposing his buttocks to the occupants, he bounced one foot in a nervous tick, eyes darting between napkins. “Look, Dad, I think I have an idea about what was in my system if you could just get me the repor...” the boy said twisting as much as possible to look over his shoulder to the door. Something shifted in him, not his eyes or his posture but his very existence it seemed. Whatever it was though it happened too fast for Derek to label. His own undereye bags, a trademark for the group it seemed, took on the same nauseous yellow as the infection. “Derek... hi.” Just like the look, there was a single word that felt loaded with a world of ammunition. Derek was no were ready to handle a world like that.

"We have been over this Stiles, I am not giving you any reports about this case." The Sheriff responded breaking the moment and the world it encompassed. That got the teens attention, his eyes shot back to the headboard of notes, though it was debatable how much he was actually seeing. A hand rose up to knot around a chunk of hair, worrying it at a pace that would likely result in premature baldness. "But..."

“You won’t need it.” Deaton informed him, having decided to tag along and ‘observe’. “We are getting your toxicology reports within the hour.” A suitable answer but the teens gnawed lips suggested that he couldn't wait much longer. "No!” The Sheriff insisted. “But nothing Stiles, I am banned from this case anyways so I don't even have access." taking a seat near his son, which brought about a childish pout that looked pinched and forced. The two men held a silent battle as the teen stared down his father. When it was clear the Sheriff would not faultier, Stiles gave up. He started looking anywhere but back at the man.

“Derek.” Stiles tried to roll over on his side to see him better. Only achieving to stretch his cuts and give squawk of pain. The loud protest from the Sheriff highlighting his perpetual tendency to aggravate his tender back. Derek rushed forward, ready to be of aid, he raised his hand but couldn't bring himself to touch the scarred skin. Instead, he let his hand land on the teen’s neck, letting the heat from it loosen the tight muscles. Stiles dropped his head, breathing deeply through his clenched teeth. “You okay?” Derek asked. The returning strained smile told you everything you needed to know.

“I am hanging in there, how are you, big guy?” The voice was stressed but the intentions and interest were definitely there. Slowly without shifting his shoulders, the bedridden boy tried to grasp Derek's other hand. Derek allowed it, running his larger thumb across the boy's thin inner wrist.  "Nice cane. Though I’d prefer a wheelchair, nothing like a good hallway race." The snarky comment dew out a snort from Derek. It was odd, the Sheriff said Stiles was barely okay. He was preparing to see a half-dead man in bed and to be giving a tearful goodbye. One worthy of a lifetime mini-series and daytime Emmy award.

"I am... Fine. You seem to have been active." Stiles gave a look as he set his head down on his arm, picking at the corner of a taped napkin note. “What have you been doing?" Derek asked trying to read the messy notation, something about roomies other names. “Organizing. My memory is wrecked but I'm trying to piece together what I can and figure out what happened.” His fingers squeezed ever so slightly around Derek's palm. “It would be easier if the doctors could just tell me or if 'someone' would get me the case file." A frustrated groan coming from his father as he rubbed his eyes. Deaton on his part looked almost pleased with the accusation. "Quite pushing it Stiles or I'm taking your computer away again." The Sheriff said, a hint of annoyance, long since normalized, in his voice. The petulant pout on his kid's face did little to sway the man. Clearly a leftover habit from a kinder time, when the biggest problem was not having the newest GI Joe. 

"Fine. I'll just relay on my nonexistent memories, not like those are helpful of anything." A twitch in his jaw caught Derek's attention, he was clenching far too hard for someone who sounded so relaxed. The act made his muscles flex and his jaw seem bigger, broader. Derek wanted to play with his temples, rub them till he was forced to relax. The idea of smoothing the tense muscles brought him comfort. He occupied them instead by moving a few 'notes' to the bedside desk and taking a seat next to Stiles. 

"You never mentioned that you're the Sheriff's son." He started off, trying to make some kind of small talk, coming up with very few topics other than weather and personal injuries. Clearly by the look on Stiles' face though, this was a wrong topic too. Even the Sheriff raised a brow at where this conversation seemed to be going. "Believe it or not, not a lot of people involved with orgies are interested in fucking a cop’s kid." "Stiles!" And the head was back in his hands. Derek's blood rushes to his cheeks and neck, turning them that blotchy red that Laura loved to make fun of. 

"Sorry, dad.” Though it was clear that he really wasn't from the mischievous smirk he shot up from his laid out position. “Look, I don't tell a lot of people because A) Half the population of Beacon Hills already knows and B) People treat you differently when they know your family is packing and they have the resources to make a murder look like an accident. Right, dad!?" He asked throwing that wicked smirk on his lips to his dad. "Damn straight kiddo." "Oh so you can say damn but I can't say fuck?" He pressed, to the clear discomfort of his father. "I'm getting a drink, call if you need anything." The Sheriff said, dodging the issue. 

As soon as the man was out the door, Stiles picked up right where he left off, shuffling through napkin notes while rambling on. "So like I said, half of Beacon Hills knows my dad so I see it... problematic to bring it up on the website. I doubt half of the users wouldn’t risk arrest by sleeping with the Sheriff's just legal son, and those who would know and still would I doubt I'd want to sleep with them. So I kept it secret and sneak out for fun when I can and... And look where it got me." He finished lamely, jaw broadening again. Derek felt the weight in that statement all of a sudden, like a brick on the chest. “Hay, there was no way we could have known.” Derek scratched at the base of his scalp. Slightly Stiles started to unclench his jaw.

“Ever heard of a background check.” That got Derek's fingers to stop. Stiles refused to look at him and a harsh glint came over his eyes. Silence filled the room, beeping machines interspersed with the scrape of nails to the scalp. Slowly Stiles moved his hand from Derek's to his thighs, rubbing his thumb back and forth. A small comforting circle of warmth rubbed in the spot. A comforting bubble felt like it was surrounding them, much like it did when he was with Scott and Lydia. Several minutes past before the silent doctor cleared his throat, bringing all the attention to him. “Gentlemen, I think it's time we have that lunch and chat now.”

\--------------------------------------------------TW----------------------------------------------------------

The cafeteria had an assortment of health foods delivered to Deaton’s west side office. It was every stereotypical office in ever doctor drama ever, minus the mystery stains on the couch that accompanied any saucy scene. Medical illustration flanked a multitude of degrees, doctorates, and awards. One wall was completely swallowed by a bookshelf over following with medical journals and the odd Stephen King Novel. The wide desk provided ample space for the spread of salads and sandwiches. It was wide enough to highlight both the Doctor's status in the hospital and the number of large meetings he had to conduct.

Derek found himself squeezed between the couch’s left arm and the Sheriff’s right. A protective barrier between him and Mrs. Martin who was stabbing angrily at a cherry tomato on the far end of the leather couch. Laura returned to find herself ‘summoned’ to the doctor's office, now perched on the couch’s arm, her arm draped over his shoulder. Lydia was sitting in the chair next to the couch at a “respectable” distance par request of her mother. However, her foot knocked against Derek's leg when she had them crossed his way. Scott was wrapped in a blanket sipping boiling hot soup near the room’s heater. His mother stood, refusing to sit, instead insisting on checking up on all three of her “patients”. No one seemed to want to talk as they ate, each tucked into their own meal. The only voice being Melisa’s as she went around to each of the young people, asking them to keep eating more with each pass. Even Deaton seemed more absorbed in writing down quick notes in a messy manila folder between bites of a turkey sandwich.

With the last bites, Deaton shuffled some papers into piles before rounding the desk, propping a hip against it as he wiped his fingers of spilled mustard. “Alright, I hope you all are founding lunch agreeable, now to why we are all here.” Every occupant shifting forward. The Sheriff even shifted his phone closer, the speaker call with Stiles provided a connection to the bedridden boy. It was the only thing that placated Stiles into being left in his room like he needed. It was clear he did not handle being out of the loop very well. “I am the case specialist for all of you. From now on, all in-hospital treatments and even your outpatient check-ups will be under my care.” Mostly the adults took note of this, Lydia’s mother pulling out a spiral and pen from her designer bag. “As it seems painfully obvious, this situation is a delicate one and one that we would like to keep as under control as possible. We will offer everything we can to you and your children however we still have a lot of questions we still need answering.”

“I’m sorry but you said you had answers for us.” Mrs. Martin snipped “Further, why is this a group case? As far as I understand it my daughter should and has nothing to do with this man.” She pointed to Derek, that caught Laura's attention and the menacing glare foreshadowing a conflict. Deaton leveled the woman with a cooled look. “I have a theory, it will take some more testing to see if it pans out but first I have just a few questions for Lydia, Scott, and Derek.” the three called on passed around weary looks but there was no avoiding it. “Derek, what were some of the first things you thought and felt upon waking up?” Derek’s brow scrunched up at that, his thoughts becoming heavy and his eyes finding a blank corner to stare at. His first thoughts? He barely remembers them, they weren’t even fully thoughts, they were impressions. Emotions at best. It was a strong urge that pulled in his gut, it’s what made his personal bubble seem to shrink overnight. “I mean besides the normal where am I and what happened, I first thought.... where are the others? Were they okay? I mean, it’s vague but like I was just scared. I wanted to protect them. That kept me moving.”

Deaton’s nodding in acceptance was accompanied with the fast scribbles in the manila folder. “Alright. Scott?” “I just felt cold.... I wanted to see Derek.” His answer was so clear... how was it so clear? “He practically chanted his name the whole time he was asleep” Melissa added, rearranging the falling blanket around her son’s shoulders. A gentle kiss on his forehead teasing a fond smile from the boy. “Stiles as well.” Affirmed the Sheriff, a grunt coming from the speakerphone. “I worried about everyone when I woke up but I wanted to see Derek first.” Stiles voice, a little altered by the mechanics of a phone, contributed to the conversation. How was everyone so calm about this? 

Deaton just nodded, “Lydia?” The young woman just flipped a few strands of strawberry kind hair over her shoulder before writing her answer down on a whiteboard.  _ DEREK _ was written in her crisp clean hand. “I don't see how that matters,” Lydia's mother voicing her frustration. “These children went through a traumatic event together, of course, they would think of each other.” Derek gave a sigh of relief, that made sense, that was clear enough. “Precisely,” Deaton politely Smiled “that alone doesn't prove anything but it's a start. Tell me, what does it feel like when you are in each other's space?” None of them answered right away, chewing over the loaded question. How do you begin to describe the presence of a person?

The phone vibrated slightly with the sudden volume of Stiles' voice. “With Derek, I feel tethered... It’s hard to put into words but it would be like... a fuzzy blanket on a sad day.” Laura’s arm tightened around Derek’s shoulder, from his position he could see an exaggerated view of her downward tilted lips. Lydia was busy writing away so Scott took over the reigns. “Stiles is right, it’s like I am in a protective bubble when we are together.” “We?” Deaton egged on, his pen stalling for a moment. “Derek and I.” Scott elaborated. Just as Deaton looked down to finish his notes, Lydia quickly flipped her whiteboard for all to read. _I am content. I am not left wanting._ “That is what I was suspecting. It is my theory that after the events of  December 12 you have all become bonded mates.” The room went still. You could see and feel everyone tense up.

“How is that even possible? I thought it was a conscious decision.” Derek stated, his grip tightened around Laura’s leg. Boyd had been making preparations for weeks, even more so he and Erica had been discussing their vision of the event for months. Laura’s to almost half a year, the both of them wanted perfection for the moment, renting out a beautiful suite and reservations at the finest restaurant in the tri-county area. “Contrary to the media's popular depiction of the subject, bonding can happen involuntarily. Usually, in extreme situations. we are still unclear on why it even happens or how but it is not unheard of for unconscious bonding to happen between childhood friends being separated, co-workers, even between an EMT and a patient.” Of freaking course. That was verbally the core of his major, nothing is as clean cut with gender and sex as basically every form of media wanted to show it. Hell, he was supposed to take a deconstruction of bonding history next semester. Get it together Derek.

“I read your statements, Derek is it true you cut down Lydia and Scott after calling for help?” A tired nod yes was all he could muster. “Were they lucid when that happened?” Nod no. “Were they conscious?” “Sort of. Scott was talking when I cut him down but I thought Lydia Isaac and Stiles were dead.” Lydia’s mother inhaled deeply, hands clenching around her pen. The Sheriff clenched his jaw, family trait it seemed. Lydia waved her arm gaining the attention of the room then pointed to the board.  _ I remember mostly noise, I was almost completely blacked out but I do remember hearing their voices and the fight. _ “Yeah,” Scott added after a slurp of soup. “It felt like a dream but I remember talking with Derek and forcing Isaac to vomit.”

“That supports my theory then. I believe that in this alter state and due to the recent trauma you all read Derek’s aid as a bond proposal to which you accepted.” “I thought that required a physical consummation though.” Stiles said “It does,” said Deaton “to make it a full fledge bonding but it also isn't uncommon to find couples with bonds years old that is only half completed.” “It’s true, Stiles mother and I were childhood sweethearts. We were basically bonded since the beginning of high school but did not complete until college.” The sheriff said a small sad smile in his memory. “So we are like dating now?” Scott asked. “In a way, but this will feel more intense, you’ll want to be by each other constantly and in some cases, people even report feeling the other when they are separated.”

“But what about Stiles?” Scott asked “He was completely out and I don't think either of us even got to him to help.” something that he seemed ashamed about, staring at the intricate carpet pattern. “That’s probably because I was looking at Derek.” Calmed voiced as ever came through the phone. “While Kate was... doing her thing, I just looked at Derek the whole time.”

“So what do we do? How do we break these bonds” Lydia’s mother asked? Out of everything said so far, that is what made Derek’s stomach flip. He felt like he would be sick. Lydia’s response seemed even worse, a deathly pallor setting in and a glare that could kill leveled at her mother. “That would be unwise at this moment Mrs. Martin,” Deaton stated. “I firmly believe that these five need each other at this time.” The older woman’s snort proved her disbelief. “Her, let me show you all that I mean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, long time no sees. Not sure if anyone still reads this but hay if you do, hope you like it. Critiques and such are always appreciated At this point this is my major form of creative writing practice.


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